Swallows
by MrsMargeryLovett
Summary: Benjamin Barker returned a different man, to find that it was not him alone who had gone through changes. Johanna hides in safety with Mrs Lovett as her guardian while Lucy waits locked away in her tower...
1. Chapter 1

"I want Nellie!" Lucy screamed, the labour pains tearing through her frail body. "Where's Nellie?"

"I'm 'ere, I'm 'ere," Nellie whispered soothingly, pushing the midwife out of the way to reach her friend. "Don't worry, love, it'll be over soon, she'll be 'ere soon."

"Oh, Nellie," she whimpered, clinging onto Nellie's dress desperately. "Don't leave me, Nellie, I can't bear to be left alone again!"

"I'm not going anywhere! Come on, dear, few more minutes and it'll be over."

Lucy screamed again, her fingers tightening their grasp and the sweat on her forehead appearing quickly and stinging her eyes as the beads fell from her skin. _Why am I being punished?_ No, she thought to herself, crying out in both pain and anguish of her guilt. Don't pity yourself. Benjamin wouldn't want it. Benjamin wouldn't have wanted any of this, but he most certainly would not want her to think such horrible thoughts towards herself. None of this was her fault. None of this was either of their fault. It was all _his_.

"Nellie- please, Nellie- it _hurts_ so!"

"I know, I know, but yeh're a strong one, love, yeh'll be fine! She'll be fine!"

"I don't want her," Lucy whispered, trembling, her thoughts suddenly more composed than they had been in months. "I don't want her, Nellie. She's not Benjamin's."

"Doesn't matter who the father is," Nellie said, though she said it not entirely truthfully, rather hopefully instead. "It'll be _your_ little kid, yeh'll love it just as much as Joha-"

"Don't say her name!"

The outburst brought on another wave of pain. The midwife flustered slightly, an obvious amateur at the business, who dove under the covers hiding Lucy's shame and called out feebly 'She's on her way!'.

"'ere that, Lucy?" Nellie said excitedly. "It's almost over, yeh just need to stay strong a few moments longer."

"I don't want to be strong," Lucy moaned, her head rolling from the mixture of fatigue and hurt. "I don't want the baby, I don't want to be strong, I don't want to _live here!_ I just want to go home!"

Nellie could only close her eyes tightly and hold Lucy's now grasping hands tightly, hoping that somehow her wishes would come true. That somehow Benjamin would come back, that this baby was _his_ and not… well, that it was Benjamin's. Lucy screamed again, and they knew it had begun. This poor little baby… what Nellie wouldn't have given for it to be born under more pleasant circumstances. Born to a mother that was prepared to love her. There was no doubt in Nellie's mind that Lucy would love the child, it was in her nature. Lucy loved everyone and everything, within reason. This baby would be no different. But if only it would be born to a loving family, not simply its mother.

"I-it's a girl," the midwife murmured as Lucy collapsed in relief, her head hanging back and her mouth open lazily as she panted for the air she had been denied. It seemed such an ugly thing to Nellie at first- small, pink, writhing. It did not scream, and for a moment all thought it was a stillborn, but it began to cough wheezily, making odd noises when it could. The midwife handed the child to Lucy, who at first seem disgusted to hold the thing let alone look at it. In mere seconds, Lucy's eyes softened, filling with tears and she began to smile.

"Hello," she whispered to the little girl who now seemed to be sleeping, content and warm in its woollen blanket. "Hello, there, my little girl. My little baby girl…"

Lucy pressed her lips against the child's head, resting them there for a few moments before turning to Nellie. Her eyes displayed a sudden sadness- a realisation.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, quivering. "I don't want her near that… that… that _beast_."

"Yeh'll 'ave to grin and bear it, love."

"Can't- can't we just say that, that it was a still birth? You could raise two, couldn't you?"

"I'll only be able to scrape together enough for Johanna, love. Besides, 'ow long would it be before someone told 'im? No, Lucy, yeh'll 'ave to keep 'er. The Judge ain't gonna do nothing to 'er, not to 'is own flesh and blood."

"I suppose," Lucy said, looking down at the child in her arms. "I couldn't bear to think… oh, Lord, Nellie, what if he finds out about Johanna?"

"Keep yeh voice down!"

"But what if he did? I couldn't even think of her living here, of her not knowing about Ben- he won't even let me mention my own husband's name, you know!"

"I do." Nellie looked around, wondering for a moment if the Judge were there listening to them at that very moment. No, it was far too early in the morning for that. He'd be off at the court house for sure. "Yeh got a name yet?" she asked. Distraction. That would be the best for them both.

"Roseanne," Lucy said immediately. "It's what Ben wanted to call Johanna for a while."

"Till 'e saw sense." Lucy smiled, stroking the fine hair on top of little Roseanne's head.

"Do you think he's dead?"

Nellie wasn't quite sure that she'd heard the question, it being said so quietly and with such a strange calmness that it was almost impossible for it to have been said. The question slowly ebbed into her mind, becoming more and more disturbing as she thought about it. She could not help but think yes. Benjamin had been a lovely man, so kind and gentle. He would never have been able to defend himself.

"Course not," she replied, smiling valiantly. "Right old charmer, that boy. No one would want to 'urt 'im."

"You don't need to lie to me, Nellie. _I_ think he is. I just want to know that I'm not going absolutely mad for thinking so."

"Yeh're not mad, love," Nellie said quietly, stroking the hair out of Lucy's eyes. "But yeh mustn't think so morbidly. Yeh child's just been born. Just think… think about when Benjamin'll be back. Think about 'ow much 'e's gonna love this child, no matter where it came from."

"I've never been one for fairytales," Lucy said, though a small smile appeared on her lips. Slowly, her eyes began to close, and her breathing became softer. Nellie waited patiently until she had fully fallen asleep and gently prised the child from her mother's arms. She held the child for a moment, admiring her, and looked around the room for a cot.

"The bastards," she whispered upon realising that one had not been prepared.

"And what, may I ask, do you think you are doing with my child?"

Nellie turned sharply, her surprise turning quickly into a scowl.

"Milord," she said as humbly as she could, bowing her head. "Looking for a crib. Mrs _Barker_ has fallen asleep."

The Judge's lip twitched as he heard the name spoken, but stood fast and betrayed nothing.

"A hired assistant will take care of that. It is none of your business, ma'am."

"It's plenty my business, I think. Mrs Barker summoned for me and I am at liberty to care for the child as I see fit."

"I will remind you, I send women like you to Botany Bay every day, Mrs Lovett, I shan't be afraid to send you too."

"You wouldn't dare," Nellie sneered. "My husband was a respectable man, I'll 'ave you know, and people would not look so kindly to you sending 'is widow to prison so quickly after 'is death."

"A respectable man, you say? What sort of respectable man looks for a wife in the whore house?"

"A darn sight better a man than one who takes women at parties."

The Judge was silent as Nellie looked triumphantly at him. She saw, however, that it was not in her best interest to look after the child any longer, and so returned to Lucy's bedside and placed the baby on her chest.

"'appy now?"

"Leave, now."

"Charming," Nellie muttered as she left the room, sparing only one last quick glance at Lucy as she did. It was such a shame to leave while Lucy still slept. They had known long before the birth that this would be the last day they would see each other. It didn't seem right to talk of death as their parting conversation.

* * *

"Yeh better be worth all this fuss one day," Nellie said to the gurgling child in her arms that night. Little Johanna giggled and clung to the bottle she had been given, drinking greedily. Nellie could not help but laugh, fussing about the room as she did so. "Yeh certainly better be worth all the cleaning, me bones never were too strong. If you dare sneeze after all this dusting I'll clobber yeh."

Johanna laughed again, entertained by the tone her guardian was taking. At such a tender age, she was rather receptive to the tone of voice people around her used and reacted in a rather accurate and overly entertaining way. Nellie threw her duster to the floor and collapsed on the seat beside Johanna, rocking the little bassinette gently while the other hand placed itself on her forehead, as if holding her mind in place.

"Yeh've got a little sister now, Johanna," Nellie murmured. "Cute as a button as well. Once you get used to 'er. Pretty little princess, locked in a tower. Pretty little princess and the pretty little queen, both of them." Nellie yawned loudly, drawing her knees up onto the chair and humming lightly, content in her comfort. "Don't worry. Soon enough there'll be some pretty little king, come and steal them both away. Steal 'em from that nasty troll."

Nellie mumbled on a small story about the princess, the queen and the troll as Johanna let go of her empty bottle, gurgling slightly before falling asleep. It didn't take long before the two of them emitted a soft snoring sound, drowned out only by the sound of the roaring fire in the corner.

**A/N- This does got hopefully 100x better than this chapter, I promise, but opening chapters are always a bit boring in comparison to the actual story :D**


	2. Chapter 2

Lucy sat at her dressing table, staring intently at her image in the mirror in front of her. How the years had changed her. The soft wrinkles that now appeared at the corner of her eyes, across her forehead. Of course, she knew she was young enough for these blemishes to not be noticeable from a certain distance, but she saw them clearly. She encouraged them. If she gained a thousand wrinkles, came to look like a hag of the streets, maybe she'd be let free. She wouldn't be desirable.

With a heavy sigh, Lucy stood and looked towards the door. It seemed such a distance away. She made her way from the room, looking both ways down the corridor to assure herself that Judge Turpin was nowhere near her. Content, she walked down the hallway until she found Roseanne's door.

"Rosie?" she said with a light knock on the door. There was no reply, but more often than not her daughter was far too quiet to be heard. Lucy opened the door gently despite the silence and poked her head through to look inside. Immediately she regretted it.

"Ah, my dear," Turpin said, closing the book that he held on his lap. "So glad you came to join us."

Roseanne looked up from her lap, her face pale and her eyes wide. Her lips twitched slightly, wanting to smile, upon seeing her mother but she refrained.

"I came to see my daughter," Lucy said stiffly, not looking at the Judge.

"We were just reading through Rudyard's theories again."

"I've told you I don't want my daughter exposed to those _law theories_ again. He was nothing but a sadistic monster."

"With some very interesting ideas," he replied, standing and placing the book in the crook of his elbow. "Though if you are so against his theories, then of course I won't mention them again."

"You said that last time."

"And now I mean it."

The Judge placed a hand on the back of Lucy's neck as he kissed her forehead before leaving, closing the door gently behind him. Lucy shuddered slightly before again turning to her daughter who had sighed with relief and leant her head against the wall behind her.

"Don't listen to a thing he says, Rose," Lucy said quietly, sitting lightly at her daughter's side. "It's all utter nonsense."

"Father or Rudyard?"

"Both."

"It's such a terrible book," Roseanne said, looking up at the ceiling. "I have no opinions on torture in the most extreme of cases, but to hear of it in court? It simply doesn't do."

"I won't let him read that horrible thing to you again- I shouldn't let him read to you at all."

Roseanne said nothing but smiled weakly, leaning to rest her head on her mother's shoulder. Oh how she wished she could be as determined as to simply say 'No' and expect her father to never read from that damned book again. She doubted very much she'd ever be that brave, though. Roseanne was still in disbelief that her mother could be that brave.

"He wants me to accompany the beadle to St Dunstan's next week," said Roseanne with slight amusement- it wasn't the first time and certainly wouldn't be the last. However, Lucy stiffened beside her. "You don't think I should?"

"I never like the way he stares at you." The clipped tone made Roseanne jump slightly, but she soon softened as Lucy wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm still far too young for anything like marriage, mother. Father will have come to his sense by then."

"You're sixteen in a few months," Lucy whispered, her voice breaking as she said it. Yes, young. No, not too young.

"Mother, you're crying."

Lucy wiped away the few tears that had started to fall, smiling overly-brightly in attempts to hide her thoughts. She shook her head determinedly, squeezing her daughter tightly.

"No, no, it's just the dust, dear, just the dust."

"Should I refuse the beadle, mother?"

"It would only make matters worse. No, go with him to the market. You needed wool, after all, didn't you? And it should be lovely outside… best not to let yourself get cooped up in this house."

"Why don't you ask to join us? "

"I wouldn't be welcome, Rose."

Rose nodded slowly, breathing out steadily. It wasn't the first time that her mother's wishes to accompany her to the market had been refused. The idea that Lucy may one day join her in her trip to the market was so out of sight now that Roseanne didn't know quite why she bothered to ask anymore. Although, she could not quite see why her mother was in such a state about the beadle; Roseanne has never experienced any trouble from him. Any stares that he gave she thought of more as attentive. He listened to her, he did not complain when she decided to.

"Do you really believe that the beadle will ask for marriage?"

"I'm not too sure," Lucy lied. "Perhaps. One day."

Saying the words created such a bitter taste on Lucy's tongue that she could barely stand it. But Roseanne was, and always had been, a naiive child, as her mother had once been. It wouldn't do her any good to be told so bluntly the truths of the world.

* * *

"What the bloody 'ell do you think yeh're doing?"

Johanna looked up, alarmed, and smiled brightly upon seeing Nellie standing at the doorway, her hands placed comically on her hips.

"Cockroaches," Johanna said, standing up and brushing the dust off her skirt. "They're everywhere now, y'know."

"Don't remind me," Nellie said, shuddering.

"What happened to Tabby?" Johanna asked, looking around as she did so. "We only got 'er a few weeks ago, wouldn't have thought she'd gone that quickly."

"That bitch Mooney got 'er 'ands on the poor love. Didn't stand a chance."

"Poor pet," Johanna murmured, sitting gently at the booth opposing Mrs Lovett who had now taken her place at the oven, pulling out the remains of the freshest batch of pies. _Freshest perhaps isn't the word,_ she thought to herself, tilting her head and wrinkling her nose when the smell wafted itself across the room.

"Ah, me beloved pies," Nellie said enthusiastically, inhaling deeply before placing the tray on the table in front of her. "What would the world do without such delicacies? Without such scrumptious delights? Without the magnificent odour of… of…"

"Rotting fish?"

"Not quite sure 'ow that 'appened, it's veal."

"It happened because you haven't cleaned out that oven in _years_, Nellie," Johanna laughed, pinching her nose as the smell became stronger. "I'll do it, if you like, but you 'aven't had the decency to ask!"

"Like I'd trust yeh in there! No, I'll get it done soon enough, you'll see."

"Well get it done quickly," said Johanna, grabbing hold of the cloth in front of her and throwing it at Nellie. "The customers'll be 'ere any minute now and I doubt they'll come here to smell what they could buy down at the market."

"Nah, there won't be any customers 'ere," she replied, though dutifully dropped to her knees and began to scrub at the oven with the dry cloth. "Only reason they come 'ere's for your pretty face and they stopped doing that since yeh kicked the last one."

"He deserved it!"

"Well, 'is wife didn't think so. Took a lot of work to stop 'er pressing charges, she wanted children so badly."

"And she got 'em, didn't she? Had to have a go with the baker to get it, but she got one."

"Where you been 'earing all that gossip from? Yeh know I'm not one for gossip, so hold that tongue of yours, missy."

Johanna smiled smugly, pulling her feet up onto the seat of the booth and wrapping her arms around her knees. She watched in amusement as Nellie scrubbed away, her elbows bent carefully and her hair falling out of the pins as she did her work. How jealous Johanna was of that hair! It was horribly messy, and utterly untameable, but so much better than this black silk that seemed better befitting a doll.

"When're we gonna stop dyeing my hair, Nellie?"

"Told yeh, pet," Nellie answered between sharp breaths as she continued working. "When you're married."

"I shan't get married if you'll have me walking around prepared for a funeral."

"Eh? What you talking about? Plenty of the girls've got dark hair down the road."

"They aren't coerced into it!"

"Don't know what yeh're complaining about," Nellie said, chuckling to herself. "I would've killed for hair like yours, yeh know? Always made fun of me hair, the kids when I was little. Flaming red head, that was me. Nah, you're much better off."

"But I'm not a read head," Johanna said indignantly. "I'm a perfectly lovely blonde, that's respectable enough."

"Going around saying I'm not respectable?" Nellie said dramatically, stopping her scrubbing and placing a hand on her forehead, feigning shock. "Don't know why I don't give you a good 'iding, love, I really don't."

"Oh, Nellie, you love me far too much for that!"

"Yeah, love yeh enough to turn yeh into such a spoiled little madam."

"Exactly." Nellie looked up to see Johanna grinning from ear to ear, laughing cheerfully. It was so nice to see the girl in such high spirits. Of course, she was always in high spirits. With a groan as she heaved herself up to her feet, Nellie rested her elbows on the counter and surveyed the girl in front of her.

It had been quite a while since Johanna had mentioned her hair, and Nellie desperately wanted to know what had brought the thought about, but held her tongue. The girl's mind often ran away with her and it didn't do to question it. She was so little like her mother that it was alarming, to say the least. Where Lucy had been quiet and demure, Johanna had followed in Nellie's footsteps and become loud and brash. Not, of course, without her charms. Just one smile from little Johanna and all the boys would swoon. More often than not, at least. Unless one looked even slightly suspicious, at which point… well, Nellie simply didn't want to think about one of Johanna's episodes.

"You might want to bake another batch, Nellie," Johanna said, looking past her shoulder at the pies. Nellie shook her head and smiled, looking down at the pies.

"Don't know why I bother," she sighed, pulling out a rolling pin and bags of flour and such. "No one'll eat 'em, anyway."

"Keep the faith, Nellie." Johanna laughed to herself and stood again, brushing her skirts out of habit. "I'm going to put the kettle on."

Nellie nodded, waving a hand to dismissed her. Her forehead crinkled slightly as she looked amongst the bags, tapping her finger on the counter top. Why did she bother to continue with the baking for the day? Still, she felt best to continue mindlessly without any motivation other than her own boredom. There wouldn't be a customer, but what else was there to do?

It was the combination of both the lack of belief such a thing would happen and the dull thud of her knife against the counter that stopped her from hearing that brief, ever so light, tinkle of the bell as the door opened.

**A/N- In case anyone feels like reviewing- no pressure, but I'd like it!- I just want to pre warn you that the timing here is going to be a bit weird compared to the movie. Johanna's age, the time of day that Sweeney appears, etc, all that sort of thing. I promise it won't be too off, only by a couple of months or so!**


	3. Chapter 3

Sweeney Todd stepped cautiously into the parlour that Mrs Lovett had so quickly invited him into. Always the kind hostess, she hadn't stopped such hospitality over the past years. His eyes scanned the room, noting each detail that he possibly could, savouring every ounce of the home that he could.

"You've got a room upstairs, haven't you?" he said. He had only vaguely understood what Nellie had been saying and thought it best to allow his curiosity to control his questioning at this point. "If times are so hard, why don't you rent it out?"

Nellie bit her lip, frozen in her place. She had had her suspicions when this man entered the shop and yet… no. No, it certainly wasn't. Why would he feign confusion? Pretend to be a stranger? _Dare _to ask why she hadn't sold his flat. No, this was a man, peculiar as he seemed, who was simply curious. New to the city, by the looks of him and his travel bag, interested in staying. _Idiot._

"Sentimental reasons," she said finally, her lip twitching slightly. Fair enough answer, she supposed. "Yeh interested in renting?"

He did not reply, but instead looked forward into the unlit hearth. He barely took any notice as Nellie moved about the room and finally sat down in the seat adjacent to him, her brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and apprehension. _Don't look at her_. His hands twitched slightly under the pressure of anxiety, his eyes burning to look further. _Just ask her. Ask her where Lucy is, where Johanna is. Then go to them._ A lump rose in Sweeney's throat, the only cure to it being that one question.

"Forgive me for asking," he said through gritted teeth, the idea of apologies burning him, "though I must ask what happened to the previous tenants."

* * *

Johanna hissed as the water spilled from the kettle onto her arm- fortunately covered by a towel draped over her arm.

"Bugger," she muttered, shaking her hand and batting at her front with the towel. She hated the silly excuse for a kettle but was unable to bring herself to request a new one. Johanna slowly became more and more aware of the noise from downstairs and how the volume increased, though the words were muffled by the floorboards. Nellie's tone did not seem to be angry, and so Johanna saw no reason to rush, instead refilling the kettle and humming a small tune to herself.

She paused, thinking, and then finally conceded to the idea of bringing out an extra tea cup. Perhaps Nellie knew the guest with whom she was speaking to so fervently downstairs.

* * *

Nellie's toes tapped against the floor as she stood by the mantelpiece again, her fingers gripping the edge of the wood nervously. Every so often she would look up into the mirror before if to catch a glimpse of Benjamin Barker- _Benjamin Barker!_- sitting quietly and all too peacefully at the very edge of the lounge seat.

Neither of them had spoken since Nellie had fervently whispered his name, the realisation dawning upon her. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut to halt tears.

"They said yeh were dead," she said quietly, her eyes still closed. "Ten years now. Ten years we thought yeh were dead."

"You still haven't answered my question," Sweeney Todd said firmly, not looking up from his folded hands. "What happened to the previous residents? What happened to Lucy? What has happened to my wife?"

With a heavy sigh, Nellie opened her eyes reluctantly and turned to look at the man before her, her hands trembling as she did so. The way that he looked so calm, so collected… she could never imagine holding such a façade in such a situation.

"She isn't 'ere," Nellie said, her voice quivering. "'asn't been since the year yeh'd gone."

"_Where is she_?" he said, each word emphasised with sheer desperosity that caused Nellie to jump slightly. She could not control her shaking now, her trembling hands now gripping her elbows in attempts to stop herself.

"'e's got 'er."

There was no explanation required.

"He?" Sweeney said, looking up abruptly from his hands. "Judge Turpin?"

"Married 'er when _you_ were pronounced dead. 'aven't seen 'er since. No one 'as."

"She married him?" It was more a question to himself than anything else, but he wished to no end that Mrs Lovett would answer with a hasty 'no'. It couldn't be; his Lucy, remarried.

"She didn't 'ave any other option," Nellie said quietly, her wits gathering slowly. "It's just… 'e did things. Things to put 'er in trouble, make sure she 'ad no one else but 'im."

"Tell me."

"I shouldn't."

"Tell me!"

_Dear God_. Nellie waited for the tears of desperation, of sorrow, to appear in his eyes, but they did not. Still that same quietness, that same calmness, that refused to allow any emotion past the surface of his skin.

"It… it wasn't long after yeh'd gone," she began, her shoulders slowly relaxing as she allowed herself to sink into a memory, however nightmarish it was. "Beadle came round to the 'ouse, told Lucy to come and meet the Judge. Said 'e was all apologetic, would 'ave let yeh go. God, I _encouraged_ 'er to go. When she got there, 'e… she said it was a bit of a blur, really. Till… till she found the Judge. Till 'e found 'er. It was then that 'e… 'e took 'er."

A inhuman choke of rage emitted from Sweeney Todd's throat, so painful that Nellie closed her eyes to block out the idea of reality from her mind. She felt hands suddenly grip her by the upper arms, the fingers digging so deeply into her flesh that she could feel the blood flow stop and the bruises form.

"What else happened?" he asked, his voice loud and unbelievably controlled for such sorrow. "Tell me, what else happened?"

"She 'ad 'is kid," Nellie said quickly, quite suddenly desperate to tell all that she could. "Little girl, she- she called her Roseanne! Like yeh wanted! Seen 'er a couple of times, out in the market. All yeh've got to know is Lucy's still there, she's still waiting for yeh!"

Sweeney paused a moment, his grip loosening slightly. She was still waiting. After all these years, she had been waiting. Not under the best of circumstances, of course, but she was still waiting or him. What was left of him. A sudden thought occurred to him.

"Where is my daughter?" he whispered, his voice barely audible to anyone who was not in Nellie's position. She swallowed thickly.

"Upstairs," she said, equally quiet. Sweeney Todd sighed shakily, his hands leaving Nellie as they dropped back to his side. _Upstairs_. Should he run there now? Should he wait? He chose the latter, barely able to move let alone summon himself to run up those stairs to his daughter. To his Johanna.

"Will she be long?" he asked.

"She's making tea. Shouldn't be long. She's been up there ten minutes already."

He nodded, slowly backing away and sitting again on the very edge of his previous seat, returning to his previous position- eyes staring intently down at his hands which folded themselves again, the knuckles turning white. Nellie watching him curiously for a moment before returning to her own position, standing at the mantelpiece and staring into the mirror, watching Benjamin Barker's reflection as her own revealed fresh tears filling her eyes with no hint of halting.

* * *

_At least they seem to have calmed down, _Johanna thought to herself as she lay the cups and kettle onto a sturdy wooden tray, still humming her little tune. The talk downstairs had been brief and all in all calm enough, so she had no worries for Nellie. She was a tough woman; even if it had been some sort of law-sent bailiff she would have fought the man off with a single punch.

Changing the tune that she hummed, Johanna took hold of the tray and pushed the door open with her foot, breathing in the fresh air deeply with relish. Such a lovely day. Such promise.


	4. Chapter 4

Roseanne whimpered, clutching her pillow tightly as she listened to the sounds come from below her. It was not rare to hear her mother and father fighting, especially at this time in the day. Just before her father left for work, Roseanne noticed that her mother always held a disgusted look upon her face, one that Roseanne could not blame her for but implored so often that she would hide, if only for the sake of her health.

The words were muffled through the thick carpets and floorboards, a fact which Roseanne was grateful for. She doubted that hearing what they were saying would make the topic any more pleasant- less so, if anything. She held no curiosity and instead maintained her position, clutching her pillow, her knees tucked up as far as they would go, holding herself as tightly as possible to make herself as small as her frame would allow.

Lucy thought only briefly of her daughter upstairs, knowing how frightened the girl was at that point, before the familiar taste of metal filled her mouth and she pressed her finger lightly against her lip to wipe away any of the blood.

"I will not be spoken to in such a way," the Judge said firmly, pointing his finger accusingly at her.

"I haven't said _anything_," Lucy spat, blood trickling down her chin. She didn't care. Let the blood flow. Let the evidence be seen. Let him see what he was, whether he cared for it or not.

"Your tone does not please me, Lucy," he continued, his hand now reaching behind her neck and pulling her closely towards him. "Best you rethink how you speak to me, I would have thought."

"As you already know," Lucy said slowly, her voice quivering, "I have no desire towards anything that may _please_ you."

The Judge's lip curled in disgust before he turned from his wife, wiping his hand as nonchalantly as he could against his coat. He did not look at her as he walked away, but murmured under his breath- barely audible- about meeting her that night. Lucy coughed, the blood choking her, the irritation helping the action. Her body shivered at the very thought of meeting him that night- there was no use in even saying the words, she knew very well what he had meant by it- and her mind raced.

The blood flow finally stopped and all that was left was the bitter taste in her mouth. Lucy passed her hand across her lips before striding upstairs to her room, the safest place she knew for that moment. The water was unbearably cold at this time in the morning, but she did not even think of complaining. It would do no use.

"Mother?"

Lucy turned round sharply, her hand placed over her mouth. She knew very well that the blood had all gone, yet the mere thought of Roseanne seeing a hint of it made her skin crawl. Her fingers lightly pushed against her lips, checking, before her hand fell limp against her side.

"Are you feeling… well?" she asked gently, her voice shaking slightly. Lucy smiled forcefully, the muscles in her cheeks straining to do so.

"Of course," she replied, extending a hand to Roseanne who took it and was pulled forward into an embrace. "You look awfully pale, dear."

"I heard you arguing," Roseanne whispered. "Did he hurt you?"

"Of course he didn't!" Lucy said, though she noticed quite quickly how loudly she had said it. She let go of her daughter, looking down at the floor with some sort of shame. "You never say these things in front of your father, do you?"

"No, mother, I never could. I would never dare to."

"Good," Lucy said absent-mindedly, this satisfying her enough to allow a true smile grace her lips. "Good, I wouldn't want anything to… disturb you, I suppose, in such a way."

Roseanne nodded; it wouldn't do her mother any good to say that she knew exactly what happened every time she heard her shouting. Every time her father shouted. She forced herself to clear her mind for a moment before she continued speaking.

"Maybe," she began slowly, swallowing thickly, "you shouldn't aggravate him so."

"Perhaps," Lucy said, yawning. Lord, she was always so tired these days, Lucy thought to herself. Roseanne noticed the yawn and stepped backwards slowly.

"Go and sleep, mother," she said as warmly as she could, still slightly shaken. "You seem to need it."

"I think I do." Roseanne nodded and left the room quickly, leaving Lucy swaying slightly. It did not take her long to drag herself to her bed and fall into it, letting out a shaky sigh once she had. If this was all she was to do on this day, let it be so. Let the bed simply swallow her into her sleep.

* * *

Neither Nellie nor Sweeney Todd could hear the light footsteps from outside. Their thoughts flew too wildly in their heads for them to notice anything, really, from the light tutting sound that Nellie made to herself nor the incessant ticking of the clock.

"Nellie, I wasn't sure if there was a guest, so I hope you don't mind I-"

As soon as Johanna entered the room and this 'guest' rose to see her clearly, she dropped the tray that she was carrying, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Nellie?" she said shakily, her eyes not leaving Sweeney's. Nellie quickly rushed from the mantel to stand by Johanna, whose legs seemed to have given way beneath her, causing her to drop to her knees. The girl was now shaking with a fervour that seemed impossible, her fingers grasping at the strands of hair that fell in front of her face, tugging nervously at them or pulling them aside.

"What's wrong with her?"

Nellie looked up from Johanna briefly, biting her lip to a point where she feared blood may spill, but could not bring herself to say anything at that point. She simply shook her head and brought Johanna to a standing point as quickly as she could, dragging the girl into the shop. Sweeney stood still for a moment. He could barely move once the two had begun to talk.

"Johanna, calm yehself, 'e's not gonna 'urt yeh!"

"Oh, Nellie, you saw him! He- he can't be- I don't want him in this place!"

"Calm down, love, yeh're just a little frightened, I know why, but if yeh just-"

"He's a ghost, Nellie! Just appeared out of nowhere and- and- Lord, Nellie, how could you let him in?"

"Love, calm down, I just need to- calm down! Love, I've gotta sort this out. Stay 'ere- _don't_ move, promise me."

All was silent apart from the tapping of Nellie's shoes against the floor as she came back into the parlour, raking her fingers through her now slightly looser hair. She jumped slightly upon seeing Sweeney still frozen in the position he had been left in, his features bordering between the deepest sorrow and the heaviest anger.

"She doesn't trust strangers," Nellie said hesitantly, looking down at her hands which fidgeted strangely. "I'm sorry, I really am. Maybe yeh should come back… come back later?"

"I'm not leaving."

"Oh Lord," she moaned deeply, looking from the man before her and the kitchen. "She ain't gonna want to see yeh."

Sweeney stiffly nodded. He didn't care. If he could not see his wife, he would see his daughter. At whatever cost. Mrs Lovett paused before finally conceding to his silent wishes and leading Sweeney through to the shop. Though he had been in it only moments ago, it seemed a lifetime. Johanna was slumped in one of the booths, her hands clasped together. Her head shot up upon hearing the two enter the room, and her eyes widened when she saw Sweeney Todd again.

"Nellie!"

"Listen, love," Mrs Lovett said quickly, almost diving towards Johanna and kneeling in front of her, grabbing hold of those tightly clasped hands. "'e'll do yeh no 'arm, I promise! 'e's a good man, a very good man!"

"You don't know that," Johanna whispered, tearing her eyes away and instead towards Nellie, who saw those large, familiar eyes fill with tears.

"I do."

Johanna bit her lip which was quivering slightly, halting her from speaking. Nellie looked back at Mr Todd quickly and then at Johanna, her brow furrowed. _Better sooner than later, I suppose._

"'e's yeh dad, Johanna," Nellie said quietly with the highest tone of excitement she could have ever thought she would express at such a time. Johanna suddenly froze, releasing her bottom lip from her teeth's grasp, her hands still.

"W-what?"

"It's true, Johanna, it's true! 'e's come back!"

"You said that he was-"

"I know, I know, I was told 'e was dead. But 'e's 'ere now, that's all that matters!"

It did not escape Mr Todd's notice that Johanna had not looked at him once through this revelation, and nor did she seem to show any sign of interest in him. Instead she maintained a collected coolness as her body became more composed. Quite unsure of what to do, Sweeney started to step forward, still as silent as he could be, until he was by Mrs Lovett's side, looking down at the young girl before him. How close she was…

Johanna quickly leapt up, standing on the seat of the booth and flinging herself towards Sweeney, her arms winding themselves about his neck and her face resting against his shoulder as fresh tears spilled. Nellie rose and backed away quickly, wiping her hand across her cheek to hide any tears she may have cried at that moment. _It isn't my moment,_ she thought to herself. _It isn't my right to cry in their moment._ She stepped out of the room hastily, not looking back. No customer would bother them that day, and she did not intend to do it herself.

"You came back," Johanna sniffed into Sweeney's coat, her voice muffled. "You came back."

Sweeney hushed her, stroking her hair with one hand, the other wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her closely towards him. If his tears had not already been spilt so many years ago, he would have wept at this moment. Oh, to feel her again, to breathe in that scent, to feel… _alive. _It did not occur to ask her what he had missed over the years, to enquire of her wellbeing. All that mattered was to have her there in his arms at that moment.

"I thought you were dead," she said after a pause of silence which had been filled only by muffled weeping. "They all said you were dead."

"I'm here now," he whispered, turning his head slightly towards her.

"That's all that matters," Johanna murmured, nodding slightly to herself. Yes. It was all that mattered.

* * *

Lucy lay in her bed, her eyes closed, her mind as empty as she could make it. She only allowed herself to think of stories, if that. Any story. Anything childish or even vaguely whimsical. Anything to contrast the man that groaned above her, his flesh coarse and still, after all these years, unfamiliar against her own. Not, of course, that she could feel much of it. The years have gone by with such a lack of passion that she simply waited in her night clothes, allowing him to do as he pleased as long as that line of cotton stood between them.

There was the slightest pleasure in knowing that once the ordeal was over, she would not be forced to share her bed with this man. In knowing also that she would not have to go through with these sessions for quite some time. Weeks, if she was quiet and did not bother the Judge in any way that may remind him he had a wife.

When he was done, having collapsed lazily in a way that revolted Lucy even more, he would clothe himself and disappear without a word. She would still remain in the same position, her eyes closed and her mind as empty as she could make it. It would take a few minutes, sometimes up to thirty, for her to realise her freedom, allowing her to curl up into the smallest shape she could make, her knees tucked up.

And then, after a few minutes, sometimes up to thirty, she would weep.

Eventually, she cried herself to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

"You're certain that she is still in the Turpin household?"

Nellie looked up from the counter, her eyebrows raised. Sweeney had not spoken in quite some time that morning; in fact, she was not sure he had spoken at all. It seemed a rather morbid topic to bring up so early in the morning, though she supposed it was just as well.

"Yes," Nellie replied, grabbing hold of her rolling pin and hitting the dough in front of her repeatedly. "She'd 'ave come 'ere if she'd escaped. Would 'ave been in the newspaper if she was dead. Definitely still there."

"I'm going to kill him."

Now, this certainly made Nellie stop. She slowly placed down the rolling pin and looked up at Mr Todd, who was quite calm, as if he had simply commented on the weather.

"What yeh talking about, love?"

"I'm going to kill him. The Judge."

She slowly brought her head down to rest on her propped up hands, her brow furrowed. It made sense. It simply didn't seem the right thing to say, though, at such a time.

"Love, I know 'e did yeh wrong, but maybe _kill_ is a bit strong, don't yeh think?"

"No."

_Well, that told me_. Nellie paused, not sure whether to speak again, and decided it best eventually to just shrug and carry on with her work. She did so, but was halted quite quickly.

"You're taking this rather well."

"Can't say I blame yeh," she replied, giving the dough another bash. "I'd throttle 'im for what 'e did to Lucy."

"I hadn't known you two were close."

Nellie gave a wry smile, her eyes still fixated on her work. They had fallen quite quiet, it being mutually understood that neither would disturb the silence until Johanna had awoken. This did not occur for quite some time, and when it did, there was no end of surprise at how quiet Johanna herself had become. Nellie had rarely seen a morning where the girl would not skip about childishly, laughing and talking rapidly in some sort of charming yet undeniably demented manner.

"On Thursday," Mrs Lovett said loudly, causing the other two to stare at her sharply with alarm, "yeh might be interested in goin' into the market, Mr T."

"I see no reason I should hold interest in it."

"There's a barber that goes down there every week, thought yeh might be able to find yehself a job from anyone interested around there."

"Oh, you mean that Pirelli bloke?" Johanna said quite suddenly, her head tilted. "What job would father find from him?" It surprised even her how easily the word _father_ slipped from her lips.

"We ain't the only ones who think 'im a displeasing gentleman," Nellie continued. "Sure there's someone who'll be more interested in Mr T 'ere."

"You're a barber, then?"

Sweeney nodded stiffly, not quite sure how to reply with any form of words. Johanna's shoulders relaxed noticeably, a small smile appearing on her lips as she moved towards the booth that Sweeney sat in, taking a seat.

"Will you go, then?"

"I suppose."

"It might be best," Nellie mused, staring at Mr Todd with wide eyes, attempting to display some significance in her words. "I know a few people yeh might wanna see down there. Come by every so often. Prestigious sort."

"Prestigious?"

"You know, all sorts. Law types more often than not."

Mr Todd's brow furrowed slightly, only ever so slightly, though his confusion deepened as Johanna laughed aloud.

"Are you speaking of the beadle, Nellie? I hardly think father would wish to do business with him."

"Knowing good people-"

At this, Johanna snorted, her smile widening in a sarcastic manner. Nellie smiled back dimly, shaking her head.

"Yeh know very well what I meant, pet. Knowing people in- high places- it 'elps."

Though Sweeney Todd had found himself enlightened on one subject, he found himself still clueless on another. He paused momentarily before turning his head towards his daughter, poised to ask a question but unable to do so for that moment lest he should dislike the answer.

"And where do your opinions of the beadle come from, might I ask?"

Johanna quickly bit her lip and looked towards Mrs Lovett questioningly, she only looking back with an apologetic expression before clearing her throat.

"Discussion for another time," Nellie said, waving her hand. "Now _you'll_ want to be getting out of 'ere, Mr T. Kitchen's for women's work and yeh won't wanna get involved."

"Don't be so mean, Nellie!"

"As I assume is a rarity, she's right, Johanna." Johanna laughed, placing a hand over her mouth in slight embarrassment of the fact. Her father placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps it is best I leave."

Johanna pulled a face as her father left the room and turned her head as she heard Mrs Lovett giving the dough in front of her another good bash.

* * *

It was no secret to Roseanne that her mother did not take much of a liking to the beadle. It was no surprise, really. Even Roseanne could not bring herself to use his name, though she found him pleasant enough company when problems occurred, his being such attentive ears to conversation. However, Lucy's distaste did not deter Roseanne from her plans that week as she found herself inexplicably determined to venture outside. The Turpin household had been almost suppressive over the course of the past few days; even the servants wandered about with the most curious of subtle sorrow.

Needless to say, this air of sadness about the place did not escape Lucy's notice either. She watched through the curtains as her daughter and the companion given to her walked down the street towards a waiting carriage that had been ordered. The thought did not come to her to move or even flinch when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Lucy's eyes simply remained cast out at the street.

"Don't sit by the window in such a morose way, people will see you."

"I thought a lady was to be seen, not heard."

"To be seen by her husband, not the public."

Lucy turned her head slowly, looking up towards the Judge. She was careful in how she watched him, having seen at first no hint of wanting and not wishing to antagonise any such feelings.

"I wish you wouldn't send them out together."

"Why not?"

"You can't control who she will love. She will leave when she is ready."

"Would you rather that our daughter married into some form of poverty?"

"I would rather it if _my_ daughter were not married by force to a… to a…"

"Whatever insults you have stored in that head of yours, I have no interest for them."

Moments later, the front door closed and the Judge disappeared into another carriage that had arrived that very second for him. Lucy watched the carriage disappear around the corner and breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes drooped slightly as the sun bore in through the window, awakening the fatigue that still lay within her. Such feeling did always come upon her at this time in the morning for some reason or another, much to her chagrin.

Lucy stared out of the window for a short while until a figure caught her attention. She squinted slightly as if unsure what she had seen, but was affirmed in her suspicions as she saw the young boy across the road throw his map to the floor, slumping in a bench. Lucy smiled and pressed a finger to her lips, laughter threatening to burst forth. After composing herself, she leant forward and opened the window wide, stretching her head out as far as she possibly could.

"You there," she called out causing the boy to jump slightly and look around sharply until his eyes spotted Lucy by the window. "Yes, you. Come here, please, will you?"

The boy seemed to bite his lip before reasoning himself into following the request. Lucy noted that the way he carried himself seemed almost uncouth, yet with the same youthful air she had once seen in a boy before. At this point she closed her eyes, pulled the window to and walking towards the front door. The boy arrived at the doorstep just as she opened the door, a nervous smile on his lips.

"You seem lost," Lucy said quickly, as if it were an explanation.

"I believe I might be, ma'am," he replied with a shy tone that implied his nature. "I was supposed to find an apartment down on Mary Street. It didn't- well, it didn't exactly go very well."

"I can see that. Come in, come in, I'm sure we have some maps about the place- some _good _maps."

Lucy could not help but smile as she saw the boy's face light up with gratitude. He paused at the doorway as they moved on, hurriedly brushing his shoes against the mat before moving onwards with a slightly guiltier smile than he had possessed before. She led him into the parlour, one of the only empty rooms on the first floor; the servants found themselves more often than not busied in the study or the kitchen for the Judge's pleasure as they were the rooms that he would more often than not occupy if any at all.

"I apologise for the mess," she said as they entered the room, placing a finger to her lips. "My husband left many of his papers here, I've never had a clue where to put them."

"Oh," the boy said fearfully, looking about. "Is this the best time to be here?"

"Don't worry yourself, he isn't home. And nor am I the sort of woman to think of such things. You need a map, nothing else." It surprised Lucy to find herself speaking so openly, though the boy did not seem alarmed and neither did she find any form of regret in her mind.

"How rude of me!" she said finally after searching through the papers for a minute or two. "In all the excitement I'd quite forgotten to ask for your name."

"I'd quite forgotten to give it," the boy replied with embarrassment surpassing Lucy's. "Anthony, ma'am, Hope."

"Quaint. Mrs… Turpin, to all extents and purposes."

"Might I enquire what that means?"

"I'm afraid you mayn't." Lucy smirked, though, and continued to look. "Let me see, he had it this morning… aha!"

Lucy pulled at a loose piece of paper before handing it to Anthony, ignoring as a few more piles of paper collapsed to the floor. Anthony looked over her shoulder momentarily, wary of the documents that had now scattered, but ignored them upon seeing the calm in Lucy's eyes. He accepted the map gratefully, his smile spreading.

"Thank you," he said hurriedly, folding up the map as properly as he could manage. "Thank you, really, it's such a help."

"I wouldn't have done it if it weren't," Lucy replied with a smile in her voice. "Come along, now, I'm sure you have things to do."

"Only a minimal amount of errands, I can assure you ma'am."

"Well, I must demand you not to remain a stranger after you've gone."

"I wouldn't dream of it, ma'am."

Glad of this affirmation, Lucy led the boy outside, watching almost wistfully as he disappeared around the corner after a short pantomime of waving. The moment she closed the door, she felt a slight pressure in her breast, her heart beating faster. There was something similar to exhilaration in knowing what she had done, that she had spoken to a strange, invited him into the house without the fear of her husband finding out. She had had what seemed like the first normal conversation in years.

The idea was so sad that the joy turned into tears.


	6. Chapter 6

It was not nearly as cold as the London sky foretold it to be that day. Mr Todd looked up, his head untilted, and found himself unperturbed by the prospect of rain or cold. It was almost welcoming. There was an odd sense about him that he felt when he noticed his daughter was not by his side, but could not help but find himself comforted that she would find herself absent in the presence of such hatred he expected to find welling up within himself. Although, he would find it disturbingly odd if the girl had wished to go outside on such a depressing day in any case.

The crowds bustled in a manner unbefitting the standard of the marketplace; the smell was almost outrageous in Mr Todd's opinion and he could see nothing of worth for sale that required a rush to be made. He of course attempted as well as he could to look at the world without the bleak lenses that had been placed over his eyes but found there to be no success in it and therefore could see only everything that was odd and disturbing about the place.

They stopped abruptly, Mrs Lovett looking about the market with a curious yet composed air. She had been there many a time before and was always on the lookout, either for things to buy or, under circumstances like these, people to be wary of. Her eyes shifted slowly, surveying the place with anticipation.

After a short while of standing and waiting, Mrs Lovett's eyes caught someone in the distance and her elbow nudged ever so lightly towards Mr Todd, the slight movement catching attention towards the figure. Figures.

"Didn't think 'e'd bring Rosie," Nellie said wistfully, the harsh stoniness of her eyes that she had adapted for surveying melting almost immediately.

"Then that is…" He trailed off, unsure whether he was at a loss for words or simply unable to find the effort to summon them. Nellie looked at him for a moment before smiling a small smile and reached out a hand to brush the hem of his sleeve in an almost affectionate manner. He noticed the movement, but refused to acknowledge it out loud.

"We can leave, if yeh like. In case something 'appens, or-"

"I'll stay," he said abruptly, his eyes still staring towards the couple that now wandered almost aimlessly across the market square. There was something familiar in the way that he saw the young Roseanne tilt her chin up, staring from the sky to the rooftops to the market square itself. She did not seem to enjoy the idea of eye contact as she spoke to the beadle yet maintained a pleasant mannerism that allowed her nothing but an atmosphere of calm.

"The show'll be starting up soon," Nellie said with a smile, laughing to herself. Mr Todd nodded slowly before the words seeped in. His brow furrowed and his eyes finally tore themselves away from the figures further away.

"The… show?"

Nellie shook her head slightly, pressing a finger to her lips as Sweeney's attention was drawn towards the centre of the market square, the platform that had been set up there suddenly creating a fiasco of noise as a young boy tripped out from behind the curtain that had been set up with a drum, banging a simple little tune as he did so. It was such an innocent looking display that Nellie could not help but feel her shoulders slacken slightly at the sight, her jaw tensing to halt an exuberant smile of any sort.

"Is he…" Mr Todd began, looking through the corner of his eye towards the beadle. "Is he… are they…"

"Rumour 'as it she's 'is intended," Nellie said absent-mindedly, tearing her eyes away from the boy on the platform. "Just a rumour, though. Wouldn't know if it's true or not. They just 'appen to go to the market together a lot. 'e's 'er regular chaperone."

"She doesn't look like-"

"She doesn't. Turpin looks, actually, if me memory serves me right."

The very idea was slightly perturbing leaving Mr Todd to another period of silence in which he looked on with disgust as the young boy threw bottles of so-called-elixir. Bottles were thrown into the now heaving crowd that had gathered. A few seemed doubtful and passed their bottles on hastily until finally one was handed to Mrs Lovett who promptly uncorked it and held it up to her nose. It seemed the best way to check the substance and she found herself immediately regretting it. Her nose wrinkles and her fingers pressed against her throat in attempts to halt the gag reflex that threatened her. She handed the bottle over in haste, pressing her other hand against her face to hold away the stench.

"This is _piss_," he muttered.

"Yeh're telling me, God awful stuff by the stench of it."

"No, it's actually piss. And-" He looked down into the neck of the bottle and then chuckled to himself. "Ink. It's piss and ink," he added on afterwards at a slightly louder volume. Mrs Lovett grinned, though quickly composed herself before turning to the man beside her and speaking in his ear.

"Wouldn't touch it if I was you, dear."

"This is piss mixed with ink."

The young boy on the platform seemed indignant now, hastily grabbing at one of the bottles a man held in the front row. His efforts were in vain, though, and he found nothing else to do but to start shouting out again to the crowd anything that he could think of.

"The- the ladies really love it!"

"Flies do too."

The crowd could not help but fall into fits of laughter, all distracted by the commotion that had been set up. Moments later, in a flash of blinding blue, that all too familiar Italian appeared from behind the curtain and Nellie rolled her eyes. The amount of times she had heard his voice seemed at least a lifetime too many in her opinion. Her eyes wandered briefly over towards the beadle and Roseanne. It was no surprise to see the beadle standing with an air of disgust while checking his pocket watch. He seemed almost determined to ignore his companion who, at this point, was leaning forward in earnest, her parasol held tightly in both hands. Nellie furrowed her brow slightly, but suspected the accessory was just for show; the Turpin household had always kept her decked in the latest fashions lest someone send some gossip about.

"Who says this?" Mrs Lovett jolted slightly, shaking herself from her thoughts. The crowd went silent as Aldolpho Pirelli surveyed them all, his features squinted in anger.

"I do," Mr Todd said, causing the audience to turn about to look at him. Nellie could see Roseanne's curiosity getting the better of her as she stepped up on her toes and looked over the heads of the crowd. Even the beadle seemed interested, placing his watch in his pocket and tilting his head.

* * *

"Mr… Todd, did he say? Do you know who he is?" Roseanne whispered to her side.

"Probably just a common rabble-rouser, I should think. No one worthy of remembrance, I assume. I'd have recognised him otherwise."

She smiled slightly and looked up a little higher to see the man walk through the crowd towards the stage, his features quite calm in contrast to Signior Pirelli's, he seeming to grow redder and redder with each step.

"I have opened a bottle of Pirelli's elixir," he said firmly as he moved, "and I say to you that it is nothing but an errant fraud concocted from piss and ink. And furthermore, Signior, I have serviced no kings, yet I wager that I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity than any street performer."

There was something humorous in the way that the audience reacted here, some dramatically looking about with awe while others nudged each other. With a flair, Mr Todd turned towards the crowd, holding two silver razors in plain view of all.

"You see these razors?" He turned again towards Pirelli who now was leaning forward in anticipation. "I lay them against five pounds. You are no match, sir. Either accept my challenge, or reveal yourself as a sham."

"You hear this foolish man?" Pirelli grinned, his flush disappearing and instead a warm blush rising to his cheeks in some sort of excitement. He stood tall and pulled at his cape, exuberantly flashing it before throwing it to the ground. "Now please, you will see how he will regret his folly!" He turned his head sharply to look into the distance dramatically. "Toby!"

The young lad rushed forward, swooping down and taking hold of the discarded cape as he did so.

"Who's for a free shave?"

Immediately the majority of men began to cheer, raising their hands in some form of desperation to be seen in front of so many. As two were selected, Toby scurried across the stage, pulling a cloak from a large, cushioned chair which he then pulled out into the centre before grabbing a wooden stool which was placed at the other side of the platform. Roseanne watched curiously as Mr Todd stepped forward to a woman who waited for him at the side of the stage who then took his coat, smiling almost knowingly. Halfway up the steps leading to the platform, Mr Todd stopped. He paused before turning and looking in their direction with what seemed purposefully blank eyes.

"Will beadle Bamford be the judge?" Roseanne saw the beadle stiffen slightly, a grin spreading as his more public appearance became apparent.

"Glad as always to oblige my friends and neighbours."

Roseanne followed the beadle through the crowd, quite perturbed by this façade he created when in public but nonetheless excited by the prospect of entertainment. She found herself standing on the outskirts beside the woman who held Mr Todd's coat as the beadle took his place on the steps. In what she thought was a polite manner, Roseanne turned her head slightly to the woman beside her and smiled as well as she could, though caught on quite quickly by the way that she ducked her head with a furrowed brow that this wasn't how people often greeted each other and so, in her embarrassment, Roseanne looked forward, biting her lip.

The competition began before Roseanne could keep up and she watched with some mild interest as it took place. Mr Todd was almost excruciatingly slow and deliberate in his movements, as if weighed down by something. For a moment, Roseanne felt herself and everyone around her hold their breath in anticipation and a form of anger and impatience. It seemed almost rude of him to be so calm when this little competition was taking place.

Signior Pirelli, on the other hand, seemed quite determined in sustaining his _fashionable _flair. He rarely passed his razor against the man's cheek, only doing so between bursts of conversation that he held for the most part with himself. Mr Todd looked almost oblivious to the performer beside him as he lathered his customer's chin.

It took most by surprise when Mr Todd had apparently had his amusement in his deliberation and turned away from the crowd. With a few short, sharp movements of his hand, he was done.

"And the winner is Todd!"

Muffled applause sounded, as if the outcome had already been guessed by the majority. Roseanne joined in, tucking her parasol in the crook of her elbow as she clapped. There was a strange pleasure in seeing the look on Signior Pirelli's sink as he looked towards Mr Todd. The beadle stepped down from the platform and tipped his hat briefly towards the woman accompanying Mr Todd before reaching out a hand towards Roseanne. She took it almost reluctantly, seeing a few eyes upon them as they walked away.

"Awfully exciting, don't you think?" Roseanne said as they moved on and less eyes were directed towards them.

"My dear, it was simply a common little bet, you could find them anywhere in London."

"But never so public! So little goes on in the streets nowadays that I'm afraid I'll be bored stiff now I have the comparison!"

The beadle did not seem inclined to answer but instead gave a wry smile. They made it very little further before he stopped to check his watch and the two found themselves approached. Roseanne turned first to see Mr Todd behind them and waited patiently for the beadle's reaction. He seemed somewhat curious though kept quiet, maintaining his air of superiority.

"I thank you sir," he began his eyes unnecessarily blank and staring. "You are a paragon of integrity."

"Well, I try to do my best for my friends and neighbours." Roseanne could not help but find the repetition slightly amusing and placed a hand over her mouth to hide her grin. This action caught Mr Todd's attention and his head turned towards her abruptly. Her smile quickly faded as she found herself locked in those dark eyes, slightly mesmerised. There was something hypnotic there, like a spider.

"I don't believe we're acquainted," he said in a strange voice, almost strangled.

"I don't believe we've had reason to." She paused, biting her lip upon noticing the overly rude manner of her speech. She manoeuvred her parasol to free her right hand which she held out in an open gesture. "Miss Turpin, sir, and I must say, your work up there was extremely… oh, how do I put it?"

Mr Todd took a disturbingly light hold of her hand and, to her surprise, moved it not to shake it but rather to press it to his lips. It seemed odd to her for public display, but she nonetheless accepted it as average for him.

"Thank you for your appraisal."

"Your establishment is in Fleet Street you say?" the beadle asked, quite undisturbed by the small event.

"Yes, sir," Mr Todd replied, his eyes unmoving.

"Then sir, you shall surely see me there before the week is out." It was this that caught Mr Todd's attention, a small spark appearing in his features as he turned to look at the beadle, a small smile appearing. At least, what appeared to be a smile, yet the smallest suspicion rose in Roseanne's mind that it was nothing of the sort.

"You will be welcome, beadle Bamford. And I can guarantee to give you without a penny's charge the closest shave you will ever know."

The beadle nodded in approval, smiling as he turned again.

"Come along, Roseanne," he said as he turned, placing a hand on her arm. She smiled slightly, tilting her head towards Mr Todd.

"I'll be sure to recommend you, sir," she called as they walked away, hoping she was heard clearly as the strange man became nothing more than a distant figure.


	7. Chapter 7

Johanna hummed a light little ditty to herself as she kneaded the dough in front of her, taking the method as a much more pleasant one as opposed to Nellie's quick beating with a rolling pin. Her father had been back for a whole day by this point and her patience was wearing slightly thinner as she realised that the day had been spent in practical isolation from him. Nellie visited every so often if only to hand over meals or small refreshments, but was forced away quite quickly. At that moment in present Nellie was up there having helped to heave old Albert's chair up the stairs. She let out a small sigh at this thought. Though she had been young when the poor man had died, she had the faintest memory of a man about the house and the very idea of him being gone was sad.

It did not take long to grow quite tired of being alone down in the shop. Without customers to keep her occupied, Johanna found herself simply bored out of her mind. She grumbled to herself, poking the dough gingerly, giving up on the idea of doing anything with it. It wouldn't be used in anything edible and so she mightn't have bothered kneading it in the first place.

She took a brief glimpse at the weather outside and grabbed her shawl, just to be sure. It was only a short trip up the stairs, but it was still awfully chilly and she never had been able to stand the cold. The idea of stepping outside set a chill in her that she expected not to arrive until she had completed the action yet it still did not deter her in any way other than creating the determination in her mind to scold her father and Nellie later on.

The clanging of the bell as she exited the shop distracted Johanna slightly, setting off the turn of events that followed. She felt herself knock into another person, her head still turned. The collision caused her to trip over her skirts, but before she felt herself make contact with the floor two hands firmly caught hold of her, one about her waist while the other clung onto her hand.

"I'm awfully sorry, miss!" the boy said, heaving her to her feet.

"Let go of me," Johanna whispered hurriedly, stiffening slightly. The boy was slow to move, barely moving at all. "Let go!"

He immediately released Johanna who straightened herself, backing away with her eyes wide and her body braced. She found, though, that as she stared at the boy for a longer period of time, his eyes melted her posture and her shoulders slumped, her head tilting slightly. The loss of breath that she had felt as she had so many times before eased, leaving nothing but a slight ache in her throat that seemed almost invisible to her. She smiled gently as she pressed two fingers against her hollow of her throat as if to ease the discomfort.

"I'm sorry," she said as clearly as she could, her voice coming out hoarse. "I simply thought- no, it doesn't matter. Were you coming into the shop, sir?"

"Actually, I was on my way upstairs." Johanna peered at the boy before shaking her head.

"Whatever anyone may tell you, you don't need a shave, I can tell you that much. And I'm afraid my father isn't one for conversation."

At this, the boy beamed, his eyes slightly brighter as he laughed.

"He is your father? You are Mr Todd's daughter?"

"I don't see what's so funny about that."

"Well, I simply hadn't thought him the sort, I must confess." She sniffed at the humour the boy displayed, the action a little too obvious, causing the boy to stop harshly and bite his lip. "I meant no offence, I simply-"

"What business do you have with him, sir?" The abruptness in Johanna's voice left both her and the boy before her slightly stunned.

"I was on the boat he travelled into London with, miss, nothing more I suppose. I guess I- I kind of called the captain when I saw him at sea, but- no, that sounds awfully… oh, what's the word?"

"Proud?"

"Yes- yes, proud, that's it. But it doesn't matter what I did. Oh! How rude of me, I'd forgotten- yes, I had, now that I think about it. Hope, miss, Anthony Hope, before I forget my manners any longer."

The rushed tone and flushed cheeks that this young Hope had displayed before her tested Johanna to her limits before she could bear it no longer. With an almost embarrassing snort, she doubled over with tears of laughter, wiping them away desperately before they were replaced with more. Her cheeks went pink as she looked up, shaking her head.

"You needn't be so nervous! I'm just on my way to talk to him myself, actually."

"Thank you, miss…"

Johanna paused, waiting for the question to be asked. Anthony dithered hopelessly before he finally gave into the silence.

"I don't know your name, miss."

"No, I don't think you do." She grinned at her own little bout of impudence. "Johanna."

"Johanna," he repeated, gathering a taste for the name. "Ladies first." Anthony gestured towards the staircase widely forcing another small titter from Johanna before she took the opportunity. She had, for the most part, calmed herself, though her cheeks were still oddly pink. Even the cold breeze of the chilly day could not cool the warmth.

Upon opening the door to her father's flat, Johanna saw Nellie's expression change in an awfully strange manner. There had been an almost grave expression before the door opened and a quick smile appeared on her lips. Johanna did not question it, though, finding it better use of her time to scan the room briefly for her father who was oddly enough pressed against the wall in a manner that insinuated a wish to hide. When he saw Johanna, he moved forward, the smallest imaginable smile apparent.

"You have a visitor," she said before Mr Todd could speak a word, gesturing towards Anthony vaguely. Mr Todd's features changed ever so slightly, his countenance more bemused than anything upon seeing Anthony. The boy smiled and gave a small, light hearted wave that even Johanna could see was misplaced.

"I hadn't expected you to come, lad," Mr Todd said, though whether he was surprised or dejected no one could tell.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?"

"Not at all, love," Nellie said quickly. "Maybe I should be off downstairs." She gave a quick glance towards Johanna, but seeing her attention was directed elsewhere, Nellie allowed herself a small smirk before exiting.

The room fell silent when the door had been closed, leaving an echo. They allowed the silence to settle before Johanna grew weary of it and spoke out.

"Anthony tells me that he is the reason you made it to London," she said chirpily.

"No, I didn't quite say-"

"He did, Johanna," Mr Todd interrupted, not looking towards the boy. "And I don't suppose there is reason for modesty in the fact."

Anthony seemed to blush upon hearing these words and ducked his head. Noticing this, he tried to look up again and was confronted with the two people before him, one grinning at the embarrassment while the other maintained a subtle smirk. Though he had attempted not to for quite some time, Anthony's gaze swerved towards Johanna and he found himself locked. It was in that moment that his mind began to race with the familiarity of her features- they were minor, subtle. Then it clicked.

"Stop looking at my daughter in that manner," Mr Todd barked sharply, a slight anger burning under his skin.

"Father," Johanna hissed, placing a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry, I meant no harm, sir. I simply… well, it was just a similarity of sorts. A woman I saw the other day, actually."

"Did you, lad?" Mr Todd asked, his curiosity peaked. Johanna was unsure of this interest, having never seen him with such before, but said nothing. Sweeney thought to himself before Anthony answered; there was only the slightest chance, but it was nonetheless a chance.

"Yes, actually, a delightful woman I thought."

"You can be glad of that much about London, I always think."

"What was her _name_?" Mr Todd said sharply, finding himself quite close to cutting across his daughter in his earnest.

"Mrs… Turpin- yes, that was it." He paused and then laughed abruptly to himself. "To all extent and purposes!"

Johanna smiled with no forced understanding and no clue as to her father's sudden quietness. Moments seemed to pass, which turned gradually into minutes leading up at least twenty where Mr Todd stood quietly, unable to speak as his daughter and the boy spoke animatedly about other nonsense that held no importance to him. _She's alive_, he thought to himself. _At least I know that much._

"I must really be going," Anthony finally said to Johanna, utterly forgetting his friend's presence for that moment. His mind caught up with him at last and his head jolted towards Mr Todd. "If that's alright."

"I won't deny you it, lad," he replied with a blank stare towards the ground.

"Be sure you visit again, won't you?" Johanna asked in a manner that broke Mr Todd from his blank state. "And please remember the story about the Persian, I do really want to hear it."

"As soon as my mind clears itself well enough to remember, miss," Anthony smiled. He nodded towards Sweeney before leaving the room, grinning like a child at this point. Johanna watched as he left, pausing momentarily before rushing to the small window to see as Anthony disappeared from her sight. She had herself almost forgotten her father's presence before she felt a firm hand on her shoulder.

"You've taken a liking there, haven't you?"

"No!" she replied indignantly, though her cheeks blushed again. Upon seeing the slight smile on her father's lips, she looked down and pulled at a strand of her hair. "Well, he is very polite, I shan't deny it."

"That he is, Johanna, that he is. Almost too much so, I'd wager."

"Oh, impossible, father! Manners is an integral factor in a man and I should have you know it is well respected."

Mr Todd laughed at this, something he could not suppress and surprisingly did not wish to. He shook his head and moved towards the larger window at the other wall and waited there, staring out towards London. Johanna followed him and sat down comfortably on the floor, pushing a few dust formations with her fingers.

"I must ask," Sweeney began, his voice slow, "why you reacted to him in such a manner."

"Reacted?"

"I assume you don't mind in me mentioning your tendency to… nervousness?"

"Oh, that," Johanna said flippantly, pausing. "I'm not quite sure, actually. I was about to but then I just… didn't."

He did not reply and simply continued to stare while Johanna watched him carefully.

"Did Nellie ever tell you how it happened?"

"How it happened?"

"How I turned out like I am. I guess she didn't then."

"I didn't think there was a story to tell."

Johanna smiled, looking down at her now dusty fingers and twiddling them mindlessly.

"I was very little, about five or six. Uncle Albert was still alive at the time. And I used to come and play up here- I don't know why, I just liked it. But there was a rat infestation. A really big one. We didn't mind it at first, none of them were harmful. I used to play with them all the time, none of them seemed to mind me. It's just that one day, one of them didn't quite take a liking to me and bit my thumb- you can still see the mark, actually, it was a nasty cut. I didn't tell Nellie at first, actually. She just found me on the floor, cold."

Mr Todd stiffened at the very thought of it, his heart beating a little bit quicker.

"We weren't too bad off by this point. We could still afford proper meat with the savings we have. But Nellie w as so determined in keeping me that she spent every penny of it on a doctor. He wasn't the best. Just the sort you can get with meat money. He gave me a bit of everything that he could I guess. It worked, as you can guess. Pretty well, really, I've only ever had one or two colds because of it and I never once got the flu. It just left me a little… odd, in the head. Not too badly, otherwise someone would have noticed by now." She laughed to herself at this, shaking her head and biting her lip. "I'd be carted off to the loony bin by now if they'd found out!"

"You mustn't talk in such a morbid way."

"It's not morbid, father. I'm perfectly fine, aren't I? I'm here, not there. So it's not morbid, it's simply a little 'what if'."

"I haven't much patience for it, Johanna." The sharpness in his tone caused Johanna to jump slightly and duck her head down. Sweeney paused to note this, his temper suddenly softening. "I'm sorry," he said slowly, extending a hand which Johanna took quite gratefully to pull herself to her feet. "I just don't like thinking about such things. I've only just found you."

"And you won't lose me," she affirmed, flinging her arms around her father's neck and embracing him firmly. Mr Todd firmly held her in return, savouring the moment. _I'd refuse to lose you._


	8. Chapter 8

Though there was no reason for such curiosity, Roseanne could not halt the thoughts that flew about her head in such a reckless fashion that it took all her strength not to speak them out loud. She had had no previous fascination with the so called art of barbering and had never once in her life even thought of it with any more than a wry smile when her father had cut himself once when she was young. It was from that point onwards that he had either given himself into what he called the 'masculine decline' or once in a blue moon surrendered to his daughter's request and seen a professional barber. She pictured her father's face in her mind- he was away so often now while working that she had almost forgotten his face with not a trace of sorrow to the fact- and remembered quite clearly that it been some time since he had last shaven. The grey stubble that uncouthly surrounded his chin was somewhat of a disturbance to her and she made it quite clear in her head what she was to do.

It was not so much the satisfaction of easing the image of her father in her mind, but rather the satisfaction of leaving the house that kept her determined. Roseanne wondered rather briefly if she should speak to her mother, implore her to forget her cautions and simply leave the house with her for the afternoon- one afternoon at the very most. But she waited a single moment to think it through and knew very well that she would not be able to do it.

Autumn was slowly turning to winter by this point, displayed violently in the wind and colour of the sky. The journey was not a long one in her mind, so Roseanne decided quite quickly to walk despite the weather. There was something refreshing in the bitter breeze that she could not be deterred.

* * *

"Lord, Nellie, you wouldn't have believed it! He was simply so... so..."

"'as my little pet got a bit of an infatuation?"

"Don't say anything to father, will you? He suspects less than I've told you."

"As if I would! Just wish yeh'd 'ave told me sooner, love!"

"Oh, I hadn't a reason to tell you before, but I'm certainly sure of it now."

Nellie giggled delightedly, reaching out and grabbing Johanna's hand, she in return smiling with flushed cheeks. She had been watched by men for almost two years now and Nellie's delight could not have been greater at the idea that she had finally taken a liking of her own account.

"We'll 'ave to 'ave you all dressed up next time 'e comes round then!"

"Nellie!" Johanna said quickly, shaking her head. "He's father's friend, I can't much be forward with him, if anything at all."

"Don't be so silly, Johanna. A boy 'is age 'as nothing to do with yeh father more than a life's debt. Yeh father owes 'im 'is life, 'e can't argue much over something like courting."

"You sound so sure that Anthony feels the same."

"I'm nothing less than certain."

"Don't be! Nellie, last thing I need is false hope."

"False hope? I do worry about the state of that pretty head of yours, false hope my eye. Boy like that must've taken a liking to you."

Rolling her eyes, Johanna rose from her seat with determination to change the subject before she was driven slightly mad by the idea of the young Anthony. There was little to no use in making pies but it was better than nothing, and so she began collecting bags of all sorts- she wasn't quite sure what they were but was used to them out of habit. Nellie watched her as she moved behind the counter with slight admiration and envy; her lack of confidence in her courting abilities created such a greatness in her that it was almost sickening if she wasn't loved so dearly. With a sigh, Nellie wiped her dusty fingers on the skirt of her dress and looked out of the window with a smile that indicated nothing less than the most joyous of moments.

Of course, when joy happens to come about, it is followed quite quickly by a sensation that is not always sorrow, but often can be described as somewhat different. Nellie was not sure that she had reason to be anything less than happy for a few moments as she saw a young woman- girl, really- outside in the courtyard outside the shop. It was only a flash of mild colours- the musky brown of hair, the dusty blue of a coat- that she recognised the girl.

"What on Earth are you looking at?" Johanna asked, laughing at the expression on Nellie's face. The older woman turned, still seemingly frightened, still quiet. She swallowed thickly before speaking hoarsely.

"That girl, out there."

Johanna set down the bag of flour she held and walked to the window, peering through the blinds.

Surely enough, there was a young girl outside, though nothing of much importance. Confused, Johanna again looked towards Nellie who was still quite severe.

"What about her?"

"That's Rosie."

The words slowly sunk into Johanna's mind before she gasped allowed, tearing her apron from around her waist and throwing it over the counter. Nellie watched, bemused, the shook her head and reached out to grab hold of Johanna's wrist.

"Yeh mustn't go up there," she said in a hushed voice. "I'm sure there's some importance in 'er coming 'ere."

"She is half my sister, Nellie!" Johanna cried out, yanking her arm from its hold. "If I don't see her now I may never again!"

Unable to argue with the idea of it, Nellie bowed her head and waited for the sound of the bell on the door ringing. _Perhaps I'll carry on with the pies then..._

* * *

Mr Todd seemed unusually strict in his actions upon seeing her, Roseanne thought, but she put it down to the almost deathly chilly nature of the room. She looked about for a moment having introduced herself for memory's sake, slightly amused. She had never been in such a room, and there was something glorious about somewhere so natural.

"I don't believe I mentioned my father when I met you first, did I?" she asked light heartedly, attempting to break the strict spirit.

"I don't believe you did."

"I must admit, sir, that I really was truly impressed by your barbering skills- I've seen none other like it. Which is why I have come. Now, it is needless to say that he would not be seen in a place like this, if I can say so with no offense meant. He is a Judge, and his pride really does get the better of him sometimes."

"Understandable," he replied. His attempt to speak again were blocked out as footsteps were heard quite quickly on the staircase outside and a young woman, not much older than Roseanne herself, entered the room, flushed. She looked slightly embarrassed, though with little regret. She bowed her head towards Mr Todd, her dark hair falling into her eyes before resting her gaze on Roseanne.

"I'm sorry," she said with heated breath. "I saw there was a visitor. I thought it best to inspect."

Mr Todd gestured an arm towards the girl at which point she moved forward, her cheeks turning a shade pinker. Roseanne found herself in almost as much a state of embarrassment as she found herself confronted by the already foreboding man and a new stranger that she doubted she would be able to make light hearted conversation with without steering from her determined path. She cleared her throat, looking down, before speaking again.

"Yes, well... as I was saying, my father... I will not be the last to say that he neglects his appearance in a strange manner, and I would be most obliged if I could assign your help in a home visit of sorts? You will be well paid, of course."

"Oh, do, father!" the girl said quickly, suddenly excited. "You haven't had any business yet, and what a way to gain it!"

"Then I would be a fool to not take the offer," Mr Todd said with a stiff smile and nod of his head.

"Of course I will, Miss Turpin."

Smiling, Roseanne reached into her purse and pulled from it a slip of paper with carefully written script.

"The address," she said, handing the piece of paper over. "Perhaps Friday?"

"Friday it is," the girl said brightly, taking her fathers words.

Roseanne nodded to the two of them before sharply turning from the shop and making her way outside, quite surprised that it seemed almost warmer outside. There was something she distrusted about such an icy atmosphere in a room that it physically shook her when she was unprepared for it. Still, it was done. She was able to go home at this point with the satisfaction of knowing that her deed had been done and she had at least ended her curiosity and somehow improved the business of an unknown barber. It made the day seem so much more of a success.


	9. Chapter 9

The room had quite suddenly gone cold despite the heat still radiating from the now extinct fire. Lucy's hands gripped at her elbows fiercely as she paced the floor. She could see quite clearly through the corner of her eye that Roseanne had no clue what it was that she had done nor why it would bother her mother, though the concern was still etched into her features.

"Why could you not have-" She cut herself off, pressing her knuckle to her lips. "You mightn't have-"

"I don't understand, mother." Lucy turned her head sharply, her jaw loose in its inability to form words. Gathering herself, she cleared her throat, forcing her arms to her side.

"You know very well we don't simply invite whoever we may whenever we can to this house."

"It isn't simply a fancy!" Roseanne said earnestly. "It's a _business_ matter. And not even on my behalf! I am helping a man's career and my father in one action."

"I cannot see how hiring a- a- _barber_- will help your father."

"You say it so bitterly! You of all people know how much he lacks the male necessities of personal care and I felt it only right to take a step forward for him in that. If only for the satisfaction of it."

"I really wish you hadn't," Lucy said in a whisper, returning her knuckle to her lips, tempted to sink her teeth into the flesh to distract herself. It was silly, she knew. She had expected as much as this day coming eventually.

"What really is concerning you here?" Roseanne asked. "Do you know him?"

"You haven't mentioned his name."

"Mr Todd."

"No, I don't."

"Then you mustn't have much reason to dislike him before he appears. I swear, mother, you don't even have to meet him, I'm sure."

Lucy nodded slowly, biting her lip and allowing her hands to fiddle at their own whim. Perhaps she was right in her own way, though it certainly did not help her case in any way. Unable to continue any further with the discussion, Lucy dismissed her daughter quickly and sat at the window, pressing the palm of her hand against her eyes. It was silly, and she knew it. There was no use in holding such fears or worries simply due to an occupation. It was almost like being frightened of anyone whose hair was the vaguest shade of brown, whose eyes were at all similar in that shade, whose skin was oddly pale. It just wouldn't be right.

The afternoon came by fairly quickly and Lucy saw no other option than to escape the ground floor if only to avoid the coming guest. Though it was cold, the sun still attempted to shine through with all its might in an effort to warm the earth. It was futile, of course, but the prospect of being out in such mild warmth was unusually welcoming. The only place she was able to go outside without stepping from the boundaries of the house was indeed the garden, thus it was the only option for her where she was sure she would be free of any form of punishment.

If it didn't rain, at least.

* * *

Let it be Thursday. Twenty four more hours, that was all he needed. Preparation, perhaps. Simply time to gather any courage he could.

No, let it be Saturday. It would all be over and done. He would know what had come of the day. He would not be- dare he admit it?- scared.

"Jesus, pet, yeh look absolutely petrified!"

Sweeney turned sharply from the window as Mrs Lovett entered the room, smiling gently and bearing a tray of breakfast. She seemed utterly ignorant of the sharp glare of his eyes while she set the tray down on the table. Her hands brushed against her skirts while she hummed to herself, thinking about what to say next.

"Yeh mustn't fret yehself, yeh know," she said confidently, placing her hands on her hips. "Yeh've been waiting for a chance like this for Lord knows 'ow long."

"I had never once expected it, though," Sweeney replied, turning again towards the window.

"Keep yeh chin up," Nellie said slowly after a short pause, taking her place behind Mr Todd. "Don't let Johanna think yeh're scared, she can't be doing with uncertainty now."

He nodded. A small part of him needed to argue back, to snap and growl through the irritation he felt. But he didn't. The very last thing that the rest of his mind wanted was to cause his daughter any pain that he was quite sure she would hide if it were to come across her. The thought of it drove him to a slight frozen stillness that Nellie noted in her mind and remained silent about. She was always the first to confess her nosiness but she would not lower herself to the point of interrupting a distressed man. She patted a hand gently on Mr Todd's shoulder and turned towards the door, checking briefly that the tray she had brought was still in its place.

Sweeney heard the door click across the room and felt his body relax slightly, his muscles looser. He looked down into the courtyard down below the window where Johanna was clearing out the continuously empty tables, accompanied by the young boy who had arrived the previous day. A slight shiver of delight ran down his spine at the memory. It was not the pleasure of killing that had affected him, rather the pleasure of ridding the world of one more manipulative soul. The blood had long been cleared from the trunk beside the doorway, but the boy had not been so easy to get rid of. It was fortunate enough, though, that he remained. It was somewhat pleasant to see Johanna with company other than herself.

It didn't really matter any more what price that company came at on his behalf.

Johanna looked upwards as she gained the slightest suspicion that she was being watched and saw her father at the window. She waved meekly before continuing her work. Though she felt almost rude to do so, there was something strange in Toby's movement and action that required her to watch him carefully. He was an interesting enough boy if only for his quietness that implied some torture in his mind that always made a person interesting in Johanna's opinion despite their knowledge of the world or value in conversation. His eagerness in helping of course made up for this lack of conversation and created a likeability that she found herself unable to resist.

"Toby," she called across the courtyard. "Toby, would you mind popping into the shop to see if Nellie's got any other chores to do."

"Yes ma'am!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. He only ever seemed to do it when he was made use of.

"And it's about lunchtime," Johanna shouted out as Toby got closer to the shop door. "Tell her I said to give you a pie or something, can't work on an empty stomach."

"Right, ma'am!"

He disappeared into the shop, leaving Johanna with a smile on her lips that she was sure would sustain itself with thoughts of the little lad. She began to hum to herself as she finished the tables which were stained with the residue of long ago eaten pies, dust and the God awful rain that had plagued them for quite some time.

"I don't suppose I'm disturbing anything, am I?"

Johanna turned sharply to see a familiar face standing behind the fence that surrounded the courtyard. She laughed out loud despite herself and placed her hands on her hips, gripping the cloth in one hand.

"I didn't think you'd be back in such a hurry," she said as boldly as she could without letting her nerves get the better of her.

"I hadn't expected an inquisition if I so decided to come back," Anthony replied with equally weak strength in his voice. "May I?"

Johanna gestured for him to come in past the gate which he did, if not with an awkwardness that both had expected him to be rid of by this point. He stood at the edge for some time, watching Johanna continue with her work.

"Father is upstairs," she said after a moment, noticing he was still there. "I'm sure he won't mind much if you visit him."

"I… it hadn't been on my original plans, miss, if I can admit it freely."

"You may, but I see no reason why you would," Johanna replied, blushing. "What was your original plan then, if I can ask it?"

Anthony did not reply, but smiled timidly and moved forward a step. It was as far as he could go without tripping over his own feet. They allowed themselves to remain quiet, each smiling while the other could not see.

"If you are to speak to my daughter," Sweeney said as he walked through the courtyard towards the two who jumped upon hearing him speak, "then I would ask that you think of something other than silence."

"I'm sorry, sir," Anthony said, laughing nervously.

"Are you going now, father?" Johanna asked, slightly dazed.

"I am."

"Good luck," she said despite her determination not to bring attention towards the object of the day. Her father smiled weakly, reaching out hand to place on her shoulder briefly before the hand slipped away and he moved onwards. It was all he could do not to turn around again, to march straight up to his flat and close the door behind him. But he refused. He wouldn't do that to himself.

[[enter line]]

The ringing would not stop inside the house. At first she had been confused, but within a minute or two the repetitive ringing was clearly the doorbell. Lucy waited in the garden, still fiddling with the floral trees.

"Is no one going to answer the door," she murmured to herself, throwing her hands to her side. A heavy sigh left her before she gathered her strength. _You can do this_.

It was surprisingly warm inside compared to the garden despite the lack of lit fires and in fact the lack of people in general. She knew very well that the Judge could not be expected to open the door- it did not befit him- but she wondered briefly where anyone else who was often given the position did not appear. With each step she seemed to forget her fears. What use was there in fear? What use was there in expectations?

None, really. And she knew that now.

It was a thought to bring a smile to her face.

* * *

He didn't know why she was smiling.

But he knew that as soon as the door opened, her smile started to slip away into a look of pure horror, if it could be described in any way. Her jaw was unusually stiff and her eyes were incredibly wide, but it was still her. It was still Lucy. The same Lucy from all those years ago. The same Lucy he had thought of all that time. There were those slight lines, the mildest blemishes, but she was still nothing less than the image of perfection. How could she be anything less?

"Mrs Turpin, I presume?" he croaked finally, his throat dry. It seemed that Lucy had the same problem as her mouth opened and closed in attempts to speak.

"Ben," she finally managed to spit out, uttering a sharp, disbelieving exhale.

"I'm sorry, ma'am?" _Don't lie any more. Why are you lying?_ He couldn't help it. She must have been delirious, even if she was right. How many times had she been mistaken before? Why act the fool and surrender your identity now?

"Benjamin," she said, opening the door a little wider and taking a step forward. "Is it you? Ben? It must be… it _is_ you!"

"Is your husband in?" Sweeney persisted. He patted the satchel hung across his shoulder that held his equipment. "I was hired for about this time, if I'm correct."

"Don't," Lucy whispered earnestly, suddenly dropping her voice. "Please, Ben, stop it, don't _pretend_. So help me, if you don't-"

"I don't know what you're talking about, ma'am."

If he had ever regretted saying anything in his life, it had never been as severe as that one sentence that seemed to break Lucy. Her face fell and the light that had been sparked from her determination disappeared from her eyes.

"It _is_ you," she said as Mr Todd walked into the grand hallway. "I won't accept it any other way, Ben."

"And what makes you so sure?" he asked in return despite himself.

"How can I be anything less than positive that I have seen a man rise from the grave before my eyes?"

Of course. He was supposedly dead. It was an idea that had often slipped his mind despite his constant affirmation to himself that Benjamin Barker _was_ dead. He simply didn't realise others were to think the same.

"I'll scream if you don't admit it," Lucy said quickly, her voice quivering. "I swear I will, and I won't let you leave until you tell me the truth, where you've been, and- and- until you-"

"Where is your husband?" Sweeney interrupted, his jaw tense. "I am sure he will not be appeased with the wait."

"You won't hurt him will you?" The sudden concern in her voice sent a wave of fury through Sweeney's veins which brought itself to his features that suddenly contorted into anger. He gritted his teeth firmly.

"Of course I will not, how may I do that to someone so _dear_ to you?"

"Dear?" she choked, placing her finger tips to the hollow of her throat. "How… how _dare_ you say dear? You believe I could ever find someone dear again once you had gone?"

"I would not question your marriage in any such way."

"I was told you were _dead_, Benjamin. No one would allow me a room with a baby but no husband, I had no choice, Nellie couldn't afford me any longer. I only ask that you don't harm him for _our sake_, Ben! You have no idea how…"

Her words faded away as the previously distant footsteps began to become louder. The two looked up towards the staircase whereupon that very same man they spoke of took his place at the top of the stairs, watching them with a bored curiosity. There was the faintest sign of tears in Lucy's eyes, but it lasted only a second longer as she blinked them away. Within moments they were dry and her shaking hands forcefully steadied themselves.

"Your chance to appease your daughter arrived," she said sharply towards her husband. "Make good use of him."

The shortest stare was sent towards Sweeney as Lucy left the hallway into a parlour. As he was directed up the stairs, he noticed the quick manner in which Lucy's hand raised itself to her mouth, concealing a quiet sob that only reached his ears when he left the house later that afternoon.


	10. Chapter 10

It hadn't taken long for Anthony to develop a protective nature similar to Johanna's towards Toby, proven as he sat on the floor across from the young boy, animatedly reading from a book he had found lying about. Neither he nor Johanna had the heart to remind Toby that it was an Atlas, he seemed to enjoy it so well. Nellie popped in every so often, shaking her head and rolling her eyes whenever she walked in on a particularly strange scene.

"Don't go filling 'is 'ead with nonsense," she warned Anthony with a quick swipe of her cloth to his head. "I need 'im as well educated as I can 'ave 'im, and you ain't 'elping much."

"The only way I learnt anything in my childhood was through a bit of nonsense," Anthony retorted quickly, smiling. "I'm sure it's the only way any child can learn."

Nellie clucked her tongue at him before exiting the room, leaving Toby laughing childishly. Johanna could not help herself but to laugh with him, and soon the room was filled with the sound. They were unaware of anything else that happened in the building, causing a slight shock when the front door was thrown open and the sound of it closing sent an echo through the room. Johanna looked up sharply first, distracting the boys from their joviality.

"Father?" she muttered to herself, bringing herself to her feet. Anthony at first attempted to follow her until she held out a hand to halt him. Having done so, she left the comfort of the parlour and the shop which she found to be empty to go upstairs where, even from the bottom of the staircase, she could hear Nellie speaking animatedly to her father, apparently having somewhat of a one sided argument.

"Can I come in?" Johanna asked as she knocked on the shop door, halting the conversation immediately. She could see that Mr Todd had disposed of his satchel by throwing it at the mirror situated in the corner of the room which had left more shards of glass scattered across the floor. "What happened?"

"'e won't tell me," Nellie said quickly, glaring at Mr Todd who kicked a shard of glass from his path as he took his place by the window. "Absolutely silent."

Johanna bit her lip and moved forward slightly, nervous. She hadn't seen her father in quite a state since the first night he arrived in London. Even the memory sent her knees weak with worry. Nellie was still unusually irritable for the moment, her foot tapping impatiently as she watched Sweeney. Again, Johanna took another few steps forward before gathering the courage to place her hand on his arm, looking up towards him with searching eyes. She could not tell whether he himself was angry or whether he was simply irritated and she could do nothing but hope that he would look back towards her.

"Father?" she whispered, placing her other hand on his arm as well. "Father, what happened?"

He slowly turned his head towards Johanna, his own eyes expressionless. Nellie became unsure of what to do now, her face softening and her determination wearing. Slowly she came to the realisation that she should not be in the room at this point and backed away before finally closing the door behind her to allow whatever conversation would take part continue without interruption.

Johanna looked towards the door briefly before returning her attention again to her father who still looked lost. She smiled the best she could, forgetting everything but that moment.

"Please, tell me what happened."

"Details don't matter," he replied. "She recognised me."

"Then she's still there? She's okay?"

"She's survived, at least."

"Did she say anything? Anything to set you in this way?"

"As I said, the details are not important."

"Then don't allow it to hurt you. If she's alive in well, it's the most either of us can ask for, isn't it?"

He nodded slightly in mild agreement without much inclination for argument. It was all they could ask for, certainly, but it wasn't by far all they wanted. Sweeney wrapped an arm around his daughter's shoulders and hugged her close to him, returning his attention to the city below. Johanna looked down in a similar fashion, thinking to herself. Though she was quite sure that she was supposed to be thinking solely of her mother who was still gone from them, but all she could do was be grateful that her father was there to comfort.

"Do you plan to bring her back?" she asked quietly, tearing her eyes away from London. "At some point or another, at least?"

"I think I do."

"Be careful, then. I have only just gotten you back and I don't want to lose you from some silly plan you might have in your head."

"Then trust me. I wouldn't allow myself the opportunity to be taken away from you either."

Satisfied with the answer, Johanna rested her head on Mr Todd's shoulder, smiling to herself.

"You must make sure you don't."

They allowed the scene they were in to take part for a while longer, simply enjoying each other's company if not their conversation. The room echoed with the ringing of their silence, broken only once or twice as one of them would shift their weight, causing the floor boards to creak in an almost ungodly loud manner. Finally, Johanna lifted her head and cleared her throat. She patted her father's arm twice before taking a step back.

"Anthony is probably wondering what has happened."

"The boy stayed?"

"Yes, all afternoon. He's become quite close to Toby, I must admit."

"I'm sure he has. Though I don't suppose that to be the reason he returned in the first place, is it?"

"Oh, father, please, don't start an argument. He's very well behaved as well you know."

"And almost certainly here to exploit my debt to him."

"How can you say such a thing? He has been nothing but a gentleman while here and I very much doubt he thinks the thoughts you have placed in his head in your mind's eye."

Despite himself, Mr Todd smiled and nodded towards the door.

"Off you go then. You cannot keep the boy waiting."

"And indeed I shan't," Johanna replied, laughing to herself. "For your benefit I will bring Nellie to the parlour, you won't get a moments peace otherwise, as well you know."

"As well I know," he said almost painfully, looking back out of the window. The sound of Johanna's laughter continued to fill the air of that room until the closing of the door shut it out.

* * *

The night was unusually warm for that type of year, Johanna noted to herself. Her hands remained demurely folded before her as she and Anthony walked through the shop's courtyard having left Nellie to finish clearing the shop with Toby's help.

"Anthony," Johanna began slowly, looking up towards the boy. "I must confess that you've proven yourself to be somewhat dull."

"Pardon?" The immediate shock in his voice was humorous, and it took all of Johanna's strength not to laugh at it.

"We've been walking for perhaps five or so minutes now and you've not spoken a word."

"Oh," he stuttered, looking upwards and creasing his forehead in thought. "Well, I suppose I- what is… the heat tonight, it's absolutely-"

"It doesn't help your cause to be speaking of the weather."

"Then help me if you can, I've never been one to start conversations."

"You don't say," she said, smiling. "Father says that you were a sailor."

"Yes, I was. Am. I haven't decided whether to continue it."

"You must! With so much to see in the world I little see how you could bear to tear yourself away from the chance to see it all."

"But I _have _seen it all."

"You can't possibly have."

"I've seen all there is worth to see anywhere that isn't London, at least."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true! If you name the country I am sure I have been there once at the very least and have seen something you would never find here."

"Fine then. China."

"The Great Wall."

"France."

"Notre Dame."

"Russia?"

"The palace."

"America?"

"I thought the people sufficed well enough as their distinctive feature."

Johanna laughed, placing a hand over her mouth to stifle it. She thought for a moment and moved the hand again in front of her.

"England?"

Anthony opened his mouth to speak but then paused, thinking.

"I don't think I could be asked to say, I confess."

"You had an idea, Anthony, do tell me. If you don't I'll declare you dull again and ignore everything you've said to me in these moments."

"I cannot say it."

"Then your level of cowardice means I must force you into something of interest, whether you enjoy the idea of not."

"Do not think it cowardice. If I swear to tell you within the week, will you forgive me?"

"Why within the week?"

"Because within that time I will have set the determination to say it."

"But a week is so little and yet long a time, I'll either grow impatient or I'll utterly forget."

"Then I hope you forget."

She playfully batted at his arm, shaking her head as she did so. There was something unforgivable and yet charming in his ways that tore her between admiration and pure irritation. Johanna thought briefly of Nellie who was waiting still in the shop and could not help but allow a question to burst into her mind that the woman had inspired through and through.

"Did you plan to kiss me tonight?"

"No!" Anthony quickly blushed as he realised the hurried way he had answered and stopped in his tracks. He was laughed at mercilessly now for the state of embarrassment he found himself in. "What I mean to say is that- well, I thought I might-"

"You needn't find yourself in such a fuss, Anthony," Johanna said, wiping away a tear from her eyes. Her words came out stuttered through the laughter, but she found she did not care. "Nellie has simply been dying to know. She seems to think you smitten."

"She does?"

"Oh yes. Father thinks so too."

"Lord," Anthony muttered to himself, looking upwards again for a second time that evening.

"I've told him the notion's silly, you needn't worry."

"You think it silly?"

"Is it?"

Anthony smiled weakly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Even if it isn't…" He trailed off this sentence, unable to end it. Johanna nodded. There was no point in continuing the conversation as mild guilt set into her mind.

"I'm sorry to have teased you."

"No you're not. And I don't want you to be." Upon seeing the blush that came to Johanna cheeks, Anthony paused, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do. He bit his lip and leaned forward, clumsily embracing her. Johanna's eyes widened slightly as she thought on what was happening, not quite able to tell whether it was strange or not. Anthony himself was not quite sure, but hadn't the inclination to move away at that point.

When he did move away, the action was abrupt, and almost as clumsy as initiating the embrace. He smiled weakly towards Johanna before turning away and walking hurriedly from the courtyard out into the street, eventually disappearing into the city. Johanna watched him as he left, swaying slightly. Moments after he had gone, Johanna found herself bent forward, laughing again. She wiped away the tears and clutched her side, making her way back into the shop.


	11. Chapter 11

"_You don't mean it, do you?" Lucy asked quietly despite the noise of the party about them. Nellie bit furiously at her thumb nail, nodding her head. She could not look up- dared not look up, even. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"_

"_I was sure the moment 'e finished off," Nellie admitted, throwing her hand away from her to stop herself from biting any longer._

"_Then… then you do know who the father is?"_

"_No. No, I 'aven't got a clue. But… Albert. I'll say Albert."_

"_You mustn't start a marriage on lies, Nellie."_

"'_e knows what I am, 'e knows what I've done. 'e's not an idiot and… and if 'e doesn't believe me, then I'll know whether or not 'e really wants to marry me."_

"_And if he doesn't?"_

"_Then… oh, I don't know, Lucy! 'ow should I know?"_

_Lucy held a hand to her mouth. Her eyes slowly watered before she clapped her hands together, pressing her lips together._

"_Oh, Nellie…" she began, her voice cracking. "Oh, Nellie, you're going to have a baby!" She flung herself forward and held on tightly to her friend, simultaneously laughing and crying. Nellie took only a moment to join her._

"_But what if Albert thinks-"_

"_He loves you, Nellie, it'll be absolutely fine."_

"_You promise yeh won't leave me because of it, don't yeh?" _

"_Of course I won't!"_

"_I couldn't bear it if yeh did leave, love, I really couldn't. No one else'd 'elp me, none of the girls 'ere would, I know it."_

"_Don't think on it then! I won't leave you as long as I can, Nellie, and certainly not when you have this child."_

_Nellie uttered a sharp noise amongst her sobs and held Lucy slightly tighter than before. The two were absorbed enough in their moment that they had completely ignored the fact that a youngish woman had walked past them and double taking upon seeing the two._

"_I thought you two 'ad gone off by now!" she said sharply._

"_Nellie sent for me," Lucy said, offering a smile. The woman looked towards Nellie, confused._

"_Why meet here? I thought yeh'd quit."_

"_Don't be such a sourpuss," Nellie laughed, pulling herself up to her feet. "We're just off now."_

"_Here, Veronica," Lucy said, fumbling about her reticule and pulling out a small package an handing it to the woman. "I had meant to give it to Ben but take it as a peace offering. A goodbye present."_

_Veronica stifled a smile with little success before accepting the gift._

"_As long as we don't see yeh around 'ere any more," she said, though the humour in her voice was ill disguised. "Now off yeh go, yeh'll never find the door if yeh don't."_

_The two women laughed, though Nellie still tried to suppress tears that fell freely. Lucy took hold of her friend's hand firmly to guide her through the building while she could barely see, once in a while giving a squeeze of reassurance. The party of sorts that was taking place downstairs had indeed become more lively, and before long Lucy herself was not sure where she was walking. Nellie had managed to clear her vision long enough to stand beside the now confused Lucy._

"_Just stick to the wall," Nellie said, pushing Lucy forward. "Find the door quicker that way."_

_Lucy nodded as they walked on, dodging the few people who ran across the room in a crude game of chase. They knew it would only be a matter of time before someone came to them with some sort of wish or another. A hand shot out and grabbed Lucy's arm._

"_Where'd you think you're off to?" he asked in a slurred voice, unable to hold his footing. Lucy calmly brushed away the hand. It hadn't been the first time._

"_I don't work here, sir," she said quietly, diverting her eyes. "Please, on your way."_

"_Come on, pet," the man continued, grasping to take hold of Lucy's skirts. Nellie stepped forward and batted the hand away, her eyes flaming. The man, still confused, grabbed hold of Nellie's waist and tried to get a kiss. "Now here's a face I remember."_

"_Yeh're out of luck," Nellie hissed, pushing the man away. "I quit last week."_

"_I can't let you quit just like that!" Nellie pushed the man away again as he attempted to lunge forward._

"_Please, Nellie, just let's step away now."_

_Nellie nodded and followed Lucy deeper into the crowd, unaware as the man continued to follow them through. Lucy felt a tugging at her skirt and yelped loudly, blushing furiously and turning around._

"_Sir,_ _please just leave us be!"_

"_I only want a quick one, love," he said, leering. "I'd pay you well if you like."_

"_She said no," Nellie said, her cheeks blushing in a fury. "Now sod off before I call someone on yeh."_

_The man quite suddenly threw his glass that he had held lazily on one hand at the wall, causing a silence in those around them. Nellie stepped forward, blocking the path between the stranger and Lucy._

"_Don't do this," Lucy whispered, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Just let's go, Nellie."_

"_Just you get going," the man said, pulling a face. "Better get yourself going, you whore!"_

_Nellie's shoulders suddenly squared, her cheeks flushing a violent red and her eyes watering slightly as fury boiled inside of her. Her fists clenched as she turned her head to look directly towards the man._

"_What did you call me?" she asked severely, trembling._

"_You 'eard me," he said, squaring his shoulders. "Get yourself going, whore."_

_Without control over her emotions or actions, Nellie found herself quickly swinging her clenched fist, making swift contact with the man's jaw line. He staggered backwards, somewhat affected by the physical force though for the most part merely surprised. Angered, even. His teeth were bared slowly with the realisation of what Nellie had done and his own fists clenched, prepared to retaliate._

_A horrified shriek sounded from Lucy's throat as the man launched forward and grabbed hold of Nellie's throat, pushing her to the floor, the movement of his fist the only thing visible past the gathering crowd. Nellie made a limp attempt to attack back, her fingernails dragging down his cheeks to leave deep gashes, though they did little in stopping the attack. Lucy grabbed hold of the man's shoulders to try and pull him away, but it was useless._

_Finally Nellie screeched, the pain too much as a knee was driven into her stomach harshly during the grapple. The sound startled the man slightly giving Lucy the opportunity to pull him away at last. Nellie lay on the floor, the colour flooded from her face, sweat appearing on her forehead. She attempted to sit up but each time found herself in more pain._

"_Nellie," Lucy said shrilly, kneeling by her friend's side. "Nellie, what's the matter?"_

"_I think- I think he-" She moaned lowly, gripping her abdomen._

_Lucy shook her head slowly, confused, her eyes searching across Nellie's face for an answer. She would not receive one._

Nellie's eyes opened quickly as she felt a small hand pushing at her shoulder. Her vision was blurred at first before it cleared and her eyes rested on Johanna whose eyes searched over her face, confused.

"You were doing it again," she said quietly, almost apologetically.

"Oh," Nellie whispered, unable to think of anything else at that moment. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't think I-"

"It's not your fault."

"I'm always waking you up like this," she murmured, pulling Johanna towards her. The young girl quickly grabbed the edge of the quilt and pulled it over her, resting her head against the baker's shoulder.

"I don't think Toby heard," she said after a moment. "The poor dear was still asleep when I went by him."

"Good, good."

Nellie sighed, holding onto Johanna slightly tighter now. She had leant in close now, utterly at home.

"You'd feel much better if you only talked to me about what's troubling you, Nellie," Johanna said in a hushed voice, as if someone were listening at the door.

"No, love, I wouldn't. 'Sides, you ain't meant to be the one looking after me, are yeh?"

"I suppose not, but it won't stop me."

"Thought as much," Nellie murmured, resting her cheek on Johanna's head, the hair there smooth enough to leave not an ounce of a tickle to distract her. "Yeh wouldn't 'ave 'ad to been this bloody protective if I didn't take yeh in."

"Why d'you say?"

"Just a shame, really."

"You don't suppose I would have been any better off if you hadn't?"

"No. No, yeh're right."

"Don't be so morbid all of a sudden," Johanna asked quickly. "It's late and I won't sleep at all if you insist on filling my head with awful thoughts. I like it here with you. You needn't think of it any other way."

Nellie smiled and shifted slightly, the night suddenly getting to her. It was barely a moment later she found herself asleep, barely aware of Johanna or any conversation they had just had.


	12. Chapter 12

Lucy's heart fell slightly when she opened the door that day to find it was not that same familiar face that she had longed to see for that day at the door. Of course, Anthony seemed as pleasant a company on any other day, but her expectations far outweighed what the sailor boy could bring.

"Have I come at a bad time, ma'am?" he asked upon seeing Lucy's expression. She quickly smiled and shook her head.

"No, no, of course not. Come in, lad, come in. I hadn't expected you to come back at all."

"I hadn't the chance to say a proper thank you when I was here last," Anthony said, grinning. "And a note or anything of that sort wouldn't have been nearly enough."

"Come into the parlour, then?" Lucy said with an air of a question hovering on the last word. "My... husband is not in now, I should think it would be alright."

"You're much to kind, ma'am."

Anthony was gestured to move ahead as Lucy found herself being watched by a servant not too far down the hallway who had paused in his work. Seeing that he had been spotted, he hurriedly continued his work, blinking rapidly.

"He is simply a guest," Lucy called out, forcing the servant to look up. "A guest I don't expect my husband to know of."

The man nodded hurriedly before his nerves took the better of him and he scurried down the hall in the opposite direction. Satisfied with the reply that had been given to her, Lucy entered the parlour and saw that Anthony waited with interest as he looked about the room and its paintings. He cast a smile towards her as she entered the room but his attentions again returned to the paintings, as if they were somewhat of a curiosity.

"I suppose these are all dead?" he said matter-of- factly, gesturing vaguely towards the wall.

"What makes you say so?"

"Isn't that what all rich people do? Dead relatives painted and such."

"More often than not," she agreed, walking to Anthony's side. "However, you're only partially right. If it escaped your notice, I am in the one just above the mantel and I am quite sure that the other two in the portrait are alive as well."

Anthony bit his lip but said nothing so as to stop anything that he would deem foolish to come from his lips.

"I hadn't placed you as the sort interested in arts."

"I'm not, ma'am, I must confess. But these simply caught my eye."

"I can assure you that I would not be offended if you decided to stop your interest, lad."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Anthony sat tentatively at the nearest seat after Lucy had taken her place on the usual love seat that sat more often than not lonely in the middle of the room.

"I suppose you found your way in the end, then?" she questioned, looking up with forcefully curious eyes.

"Yes, I did." Suddenly remembering himself, Anthony searched into his pockets before drawing out the map he had borrowed previously. "I thought it best to bring it back."

With a slightly distant look, Lucy stared at the map before her thoughts caught up with her and she nodded.

"I hadn't expected it back, we haven't any use for it."

"I hadn't expected to not have use of it," Anthony admitted with a smile.

"Lost so easily?"

"I'm afraid so. Embarrassing for a sailor, I have to admit."

"A sailor! I was almost sure of it the moment I saw you but thought better than to say it, though you looked so familiar to ones I have seen pass by before."

"I haven't the same will power to hold my tongue when I see similarities, I confess. Just the other day I met a young woman and could not stop mentioning the similarities she held to you, however rude it seemed."

"A young woman?" Lucy asked faintly, knitting her brow. No, it couldn't…

"A friend of a friend."

"Yes, but what was her name?"

"Oh, yes- Johanna, ma'am, Todd I assume."

"Johanna Todd," she murmured, looking down at her folded hands. "And you met her on Fleet Street, I suppose?"

"You know her, then?"

"I know of her."

"How?"

"Her...parents, lad, her parents." Shaking slightly, Lucy stood and paced the floor. Her hands gripped each other before one raised to her lips, allowing her to gnaw at the skin of her thumb in attempts to put her mind at ease, as one does. She then turned again to Anthony, her eyes watering and imploring. "You know her father then, do you?"

"Yes- should I assume you do?"

"How is he?" she asked, ignoring the question. "When you last saw him- was he alright?"

"I don't know, ma'am, I saw him only briefly and days ago."

"When?"

"Friday, ma'am- please, tell me honestly why he bothers you to this extent, you look almost ill."

"Maybe I am. Tell me what it was he said that day, what did he do?"

"I confess I don't know, ma'am! I barely spoke a word to him. He left almost as soon as I came and returned to his flat that afternoon when he returned."

Lucy stopped biting her thumb and placed the hand over her mouth, a strange, choking sound emitting from her throat. Anthony rose immediately and moved to the woman's side, placing his hands on her shoulder as tenderly as he could.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

"I- I cannot say- I- can't breathe-"

She fell to her knees in what seemed to be a faint, Anthony following her as he attempted to bring her again to her feet. Lucy sobbed freely now, unable to stop herself. She had been reminded too quickly, too thoroughly, of her situation and the pain was far too much to bear. Anthony hurriedly attempted to quieten her, an ounce of fear in his tone as he anticipated blame for the aggravation as well as the concern he held.

There was a slight shuffle of footsteps in the hallway that stopped abruptly alongside the minor conversation that was being held. Anthony turned his head sharply to find himself confronted by a young woman- younger than himself- and a portly man. The girl uttered a shriek when she saw Anthony and the man stepped forward, taking hold of the neck of Anthony's coat and dragging him from the room.

"I'll show you what we do to trespassers," he muttered under his breath as the girl ran forward and knelt by her mother's side, embracing her.

"Mother," Roseanne said quickly, placing her hands on her face and wiping away tears with her thumb.

"Mother, what did he do to you?"

"Don't- blame him, Rose- he didn't-"

"Don't be so lenient, mother; tell me what he did to you!"

"No! No, he did nothing, I was- I was simply impassioned by something he said, he meant no harm, Rose."

Roseanne tilted her head, scrutinising her mother's features for a moment before deciding them honest.

"Then I'll go stop the beadle," she said with a sigh, kissing her mother's forehead before leaving the room at a slightly quickened pace.

It was no surprise to her to see that the beadle had quite readily taken his cane to the boy out in the back courtyard- it happened often, whenever a passerby seemed too appreciative of the house or anyone inside it. Though it was not a surprise, it remained a gruesome sight, one which Roseanne was unable to abide by even in the best of times.

"Sir, the situation has been explained," she said, placing a hand on the beadle's shoulder. He looked reluctant to stop, but did so. "He didn't do anything."

"He was uninvited, I'll remind you."

"I really do believe that Mrs Turpin would not be foolish enough to abide the company of a trespasser, don't you?"

With what seemed like a scowl, the beadle stood straight and held onto his cane as he often did. He offered an arm to Roseanne, which she shook her head at, instead taking hold of the young sailor boy's elbow and pulling him to his feet. As she made her way towards the door again, the beadle's cane barred her way.

"And where do you think you're taking him?" he asked severely.

"You've left him in a more than bloody state," she replied lightly, looking pointedly towards the lad's cut lip and bleeding nose. "I'm not cruel enough to leave him out by himself."

"Be that as it may I can't allow you to take him back in there."

"This isn't your house."

"And nor is it your property, miss."

"Nor am I yours, though you quite openly summoned me out today," Roseanne retorted, suddenly more

sharp with her tone. "I will gladly oblige to the request if you allow me the right to help this boy."

"I'm fine," Anthony muttered under his breath, not daring to look up. Clucking her tongue, Roseanne ignored him, staring instead towards the beadle. He himself refused to back down in his demands and stood firm.

"Fine," she said simply, pulling Anthony in the opposite direction. "Then you will have no objection to me denying your request and taking your coach so as to find someone who will allow me to help."

"Your father won't be happy," the beadle said as he watched the girl walk away.

"I don't live by my father's rule."

Ignoring whatever next came from the beadle's mouth, Roseanne pulled Anthony towards and into the awaiting coach. He barely struggled, though mostly due to his shock disabling his ability to fight back.

"I really don't need help," he said as defiantly as he could, wiping his lip on his coat's sleeve. "It's only a cut or two."

"And a soon enough black eye."

"I've had worse, really."

"Well, how much happier would you have been then with someone offering you help?" He shrugged in

return. Roseanne thought for a moment before knocking on the roof and calling to the driver.

"Fleet Street, if you don't mind, sir."

The coach started to move with a softly rough motion in which there was a silence of awkward tension that neither wanted to break. Finally, Anthony broke it, his curiosity far surpassing his need to maintain the silence.

"Why Fleet Street?"

"I know a man there, a barber, in case you need stitches or such. I haven't much of an idea about them and I'm not allowing you to try it at home."

"Mr Todd, I assume?" he asked weakly.

"Yes, actually. You know of him?"

"A friend of mine. It seems your family is almost infatuated with his existence."

"Pardon?"

"Your mother. It was what we spoke of before you came into the room- that's what put her in that awful mood."

"But she doesn't know of him, nor any Mr Todd I imagine. Perhaps she was... confused? Perhaps. I haven't at all asked her. I didn't believe she'd met him."

"It seems she has."

Roseanne bit her lip and allowed the silence to settle again for the remainder of the journey. She had briefly moved only to take out her handkerchief and hand it to a grateful Anthony whose nose seemed to be unable to stop bleeding. It was a wonder he was able to walk on to legs by the time he got out of the coach, even with Roseanne's shoulder to lean on. She brought him to the pie shop door and knocked on it loudly, unable to assist Anthony up the stairs.

It was the familiar young lady who opened the door, Mr Todd's daughter if Roseanne remembered correctly. Her face went pale when she came to the door.

"Anthony!" she cried, quickly placing his spare arm over her shoulder and heaving him into the room with Roseanne. "Lord, what happened to you?"

"I fell over," Anthony said, his tone so humorously false that Johanna could not help but laugh.

"Don't lie to me," she said, letting go of Anthony's arm and sitting him in a booth. She turned to Roseanne, her features slightly dazed in the same way they had been when the two had first met. "You brought him here?"

"It seemed the best place to bring him."

"Bloody 'ell," cried Nellie who made herself quite suddenly apparent in the shop. "What yeh gone and done to yehself 'ere, Anthony? Johanna, go and get the spare tub from the bathroom- and hand us the gin on yehr way in."

She nodded quickly and quite literally hopped to it, tripping over her feet and awkwardly skipping from the room. Nellie looked briefly at Roseanne before her cheeks flushed.

"Thanks for bringing 'im, love."

"Better than anywhere else I could get him."

Nellie nodded, taking the handkerchief that Anthony still held against his lip, as if unaware of any other damage. At that moment, Johanna entered the room with a basin readily filled with water and placed it at the booth, disappearing for a mere few seconds afterwards to grab the bottle of gin.

"'ow about you 'elp 'im out, Jo?" Nellie said, glancing upwards. "I'll go and get Mr T."

"I must ask him something myself, if you don't mind me joining you," Roseanne said, reasonably confident for a woman in her position at that moment in time. Nellie moved to respond but could not and so simply nodded again, walking on without a word. Johanna and Anthony barely noticed the two leave as Johanna began to soak a clean rag- or, at least, the cleanest they owned- in the bowl of water.

"Now really," she asked quietly, wiping away at the now drying blood. "Don't lie to me. What happened?"

"Little run in with the law," he replied as nonchalantly as he could. "Nothing serious."

"You must be more careful, the law in this city won't think twice about sending you away for something like an odd look."

"It won't happen again."

"You'd best make sure it doesn't. We've grown accustomed to you being here."

"So have I," he admitted. Johanna smiled and dropped the rag into the bucket of water, taking hold of the bottle of gin. She used the handkerchief that remained lying on the table beside her and soaked it as minimally as she could.

"This'll hurt a bit."

On cue, Anthony hissed slightly as the cloth was placed against his lip. The mild pain only lasted a few seconds, though, before it chilled itself and disappeared.

"I can imagine you're enjoying this far more than you let on, you know," Anthony said as playfully as he could.

"Your opinion of me is far too low. Though it is quite a joy to have you here, despite your situation."

A slight blush formed on the boy's cheeks as he bowed his head, refusing another ounce of it through only briefly, Johanna leant forward and pressed her lips on Anthony's forehead, lingering for only a second before blushing violently and scurrying from the room, carrying the bowl of water with her. Anthony was left in a form of wide eyed surprise, staring off into the silence only broken by Johanna's movement.

* * *

Roseanne waited in the corner as Mrs Lovett quickly summed up the story of Anthony's condition, taking for too long in the young girl's opinion. She did not stop her, though, and instead waited patiently, looking at Mr Todd who in turned stared back.

"I believe Miss Turpin has a word to say," Mr Todd said pointedly once Mrs Lovett had stopped speaking and waited for a reply. She frowned, unable to think of how to reply. Finally she gave in and turned, muttering to herself incoherent words in an irritable tone.

"I don't think she likes me being here very much," Roseanne said a moment after the door had closed.

"Probably not. But that little effects whether you are here or not."

"I hope you don't mind that I brought Anthony here, it was the only place I could think of."

"Were you not at your home?"

"He has been somewhat forbidden from entering the house again."

"I hadn't known he'd entered it before."

"Oh, yes, though I hadn't known it myself." She paused, thinking to herself. "He visited my mother."

"Did he?" She could not help but notice a slight stiffening in the man's posture.

"Yes. But the curious thing is, Mr Todd, that when he mentioned your name to her, she was driven into an absolutely awful state."

He did not reply to this, but continued to look at Roseanne, no emotion betraying his features. It was somewhat uneasy to look into those blank eyes at that time, but pride disallowed Roseanne to do anything but that. She cleared her throat, as if to urge Mr Todd to speak, but when he did not she simply continued.

"She gave me no explanation of the reaction, and Anthony did not say that she had mentioned knowing you once directly. She told me that on the day you came to our home, she would be in the garden."

"She was not in the garden, she answered the door to me. But I refuse any explanation to why she reacted in such a way to the mere mention of my name."

Roseanne bit her lip and closed her eyes, biting back the temptation to shout or whatever reaction it was that she wished to express.

"What did you do to her when she opened the door?"

"I did nothing to her. Not anything of the sort that I'm sure you are insinuating- we merely spoke briefly."

"About what?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"I won't allow you to leave me with an explanation as vague as that."

"I wouldn't call it vague as much as I would a direct answer: it does not concern you and therefore you won't find out."

"You should know, Mr Todd, that I make it by business now to know what it is that you have done."

"And why are you so determined that I have done something? I have no ruling in how she acts and nor do you have any say in how it is that I am to react to your questioning. Now if you have nothing else to say I'll ask you to leave."

With a look that barely hid her contempt, Roseanne turned from the room, pausing only briefly at the doorway to turn her head.

"I still expect you in a fortnight- father's been somewhat more cheery when well groomed."

"If you wish it."

Nodding briefly, Roseanne then opened the door and disappeared towards the streets of London.


	13. Chapter 13

It had been hours since Johanna had forcefully taken Sweeney from the comfort of his otherwise uncomfortable flat to the warmth of the downstairs parlour. Nellie had attempted for some time to remain as good company but hadn't the patience nor the physical ability to stay awake more than an hour or so and fell asleep curled in her chair. He had watched her for a short while with the thought to take her to her room, somewhere more appropriate, but he himself was overwhelmed by the fatigue that these days brought to him. Sweeney stared off into the crackling fire, hypnotised. The clock had long struck midnight by the time he himself began to drift into a form of sleep, still aware of himself yet strangely unable to do anything about it.

It was a pleasant state, though. With a consciousness he was able to appreciate whatever comfort the parlour offered him while his inability to think of more absolved him of the ability to think of whatever absurdly depressing matters it was that plagued him through the day. Distractions were rare and to not have a thought at all was bliss.

"Father?" Sweeney looked around to see Johanna wavering at her doorway, rubbing at her eyes lazily. "What're you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," he replied.

"I couldn't sleep," she said with a shrug. "Though that's beside the point, I brought you here to actually sleep, father. I barely think you've had any."

"I've had enough."

Johanna nodded and moved towards her father who opened an arm to gather her into his arms, sitting her alongside him on the chair. The fire had dimmed down considerably by this point and provided little to no heat or light.

"I dreamt you hadn't come back," Johanna murmured after a short time, nestling deeper into Sweeney's arms. "Everything was back to the way it was before."

"Oh?" The non committal tone was not one that Sweeney intended to use, but it was all that he could bring himself to use at the idea that his daughter had brought forth.

"Do you ever think like that? About what would happen if you weren't here?"

"Never."

"You mean it?"

"Yes." To his surprise, he did mean it. "It is far easier to dwell on reality rather than what might have been."

"Yes, but what comes easiest is not always what is forced upon us." Johanna bit her lip before pushing herself away and sitting upright. "Nellie always said I was too melancholy."

"It never hurts to be cautious."

She smiled in return, her mind quite suddenly settled. Johanna left her seat briefly and disappeared into the pie shop. A clinking of glasses was heard briefly and not very long afterwards she reappeared with a glass of water in each hand. She raised one with an awkward look on her face.

"I thought you might care to join me?"

Sweeney waved a hand dismissively, shaking his head. Johanna shrugged the movement off.

"More for me then." She tipped the first glass quickly, gulping the liquid down. She then blinked rapidly, coughing slightly as if to clear her throat. "You missed out. That one was gin."

"And the other?"

"Also gin," she admitted with a grin.

Sweeney smiled weakly, watching carefully as Johanna took a more precautious sip of her drink than she had previously, sitting in the chair adjacent to her father. She looked down for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"You really won't leave, will you?" she asked finally, a sort of choked pleading in her tone. When he shook his head, she smiled shakily. "Good. I'm hardly prepared for you to do so."

"Let us hope you never need to."

"Do you think I would? Would _he_ ever figure it out, do you think?"

Sweeney paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Part of him had been crying out that question for weeks now, wondering.

"All I can say is that I hope it never comes to that. I'm always prepared."

"Prepared?"

"Alibis. Or... yeah, alibis." Best not to speak about his other option. The first plan. Johanna did not look sure but did not ask again about such things as excuses. She always had the faintest sickening feel in her stomach and throat whenever Nellie mentioned the Judge and she did not like to think about what her

father had in store.

"Are you going there again soon?"

"Yes."

"And does my mother know it?"

"I suppose she will have guessed that I would after I came back."

"It's rather romantic, don't you think?" Johanna said lightly, smiling to herself. "Not desirable, not at all, but still romantic."

"You think so?" he asked, little humour in his tone though an abundance of curiosity. It was such a strange thing to say that he could not help it.

"Well, yeah, it's as if you're part of a rescue or something."

"I never said I would retrieve her."

"But you wish to, don't you?"

"Does that matter?"

Johanna paused, her previously serene features suddenly contorted into something darker, something angrier. Her knuckles went white as she clutched her glass, the other gripping onto the material of her gown, and her eyes watering slightly with her fury.

"Y-you're joking, aren't you?" she whispered, trembling. "You aren't going to help her?"

"We have no idea what she thinks to her life there and I am not one to stop it."

"Are you so blind, father? I haven't seen her these past sixteen years and I _know_ that she would never choose to live there. With a man who did that to her? With-"

"How do you know that?" Sweeney asked, louder than he had expected his voice to come out.

"Nellie told me. Nellie tells me everything she thinks I need to know, father, and I needed to know this. Because I needed to know where my mother was and in what condition and that is why I _know_ she must be saved."

"It is none of our business."

"How can you be so cold!"

"For the very same reasons you can be so hopeful."

"Don't you love her anymore? Is that it? Better she's off somewhere across London, with someone else,

free to let _you_ do as you please, whenever you wa-"

"No one loves your mother as I do," Sweeney interrupted quietly.

"Then don't give me this stupid nonsense! You _will_ save her, I know it, even if you don't yet. I've known it since the day you came back to us."

Johanna did not realise at this time that her voice had raised itself to the point of shouting, the realisation coming to her as she noticed a now rudely awakened Nellie standing at the doorway of her own room, tired but still wary.

"Bit of a ruckus, ain't it?" she said as lightly as she could, laughing weakly. Johanna cast a quick glance towards her father, her eyes burning into his skin as he looked down to his hands, before she ran into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Nellie had seen Johanna in one of her tempers in this manner before, but had not once expected it to be caused by Mr Todd of all people.

"What'd yeh say to 'er?"

"You assume this is _my _fault?"

"She's a little soft, Mr T, but she ain't ever thought of yeh badly since yeh came."

There was no use in answering the statement, considering the undeniable truth behind it that made Sweeney inwardly cringe. He was quite sure of himself that he would summon the pride to apologise the morning afterwards, but had learnt enough to know that to disturb his daughter now would lead to nothing but trouble. Nellie paused, waiting for a reply, but the man's natural disability to confess whatever his thoughts were drove her past the point of care. Smiling half heartedly, she turned from the room and left him to settle his mind.


	14. Chapter 14

There was no satisfaction in the knowledge that at any moment, he could let his razor slip and slit the Judge's throat at any moment. Even the slightest nick would have relieved him, he expected, but he was denied the opportunity if he was to play his part accordingly.

He maintained a steady ignorance as he saw her enter the room. As if she wasn't even there._ Don't raise suspicions_. Lucy seemed to keep the same interests in mind and did not look at the barber as she took a seat opposing the two, watching with a careful eye. The Judge seemed to notice but did not move, without much care. He expected her to speak at some point or another and would acknowledge her at that moment, and that moment only.

It was an unsettling silence in the room, awkward only for those who understood truly what thoughts were flying through the other's mind, even if they did not realise it themselves. Finally, Sweeney's temptations caught the better of him and he glanced up, suddenly caught in the grip of the deepest blue eyes he had found himself unable to stare at for so long. Lucy looked at him with quite the same awe; _it couldn't be, but it is_. Her nightmares had told her she had only been dreaming. None of this was real.

"I don't suppose that my husband has thanked you for returning, has he?" Lucy said finally, her voice too light, too natural. "I think I will take it upon myself to do it on his behalf."

"Thank you, ma'am," Sweeney replied, his voice too composed, too structured. "But I am sure you will understand I am not here for the gratitude."

"Ah, so few men admit it!" the Judge said proudly, smiling to himself. "I never could do with these men going by with nobility on their lips with nothing more than thirst for a man's money. Nobility is in admitting that thirst."

"From what I have heard you are a new visitor to the city," Lucy continued, ignoring her husband's remark. "Roseanne had not seen you about since those few weeks ago. Might I ask how long you plan to stay?"

"Until I die, I suppose." He noticed the way that Lucy's shoulders become tense at this, her lips trembling. "After all, I have a family of my own to care for."

At this, Lucy straightened, her lips pressed together firmly and a thin film of tears threatening to fall.

"You do, do you?"

"I say a family... a daughter, to be correct."

"Only... only a daughter?"

"My wife had gone long ago," he replied, looking away again from Lucy, unable to see her reaction to his words. "_I_ never remarried."

"You say that so judgingly, I don't suppose she would have judged-"

"I would have judged myself, ma'am, for I haven't that ability in me."

Upon hearing this, Lucy rose, biting her lip to halt her words. She looked briefly at the Judge who seemed unaware of any angst and walked from the room briskly, a shuddering sigh audible as she did so. Mr Todd did not look at her as she left. It would only be more painful than he could allow.

It had struck him as odd after that time that it had been quite some time since he had seen Roseanne, she having disappeared from the house. When he enquired the issue, tentative of having to do so at all, the Judge seemed unaware of any strangeness to the question and answered quite simply.

"I've sent her into town with one of my work associates. She does so love it that I couldn't possibly refuse the idea."

"This would be the town's beadle, if I might ask, sir?"

"Indeed it is."

"She was accompanied by him on her first encounter," Sweeney explained, though no question had been asked and no one cared for the answer. The silence allowed Sweeney to think on his situation, his hand still threatening to instil a life of its own and slice the throat that it wavered above. He only needed that one chance…

The opportunity was missed.

"I must say, Mr Todd, I am quite impressed with your work," the Judge said, the words praising but the tone nothing more than bored. "I shall thoroughly recommend you."

"Thank you for the honour, sir," he replied, bowing his head. The Judge seemed reluctant to say anything else and simply nodded, taking his leave from the room. The assumption that the barber would show himself out was taken for granted and left Sweeney slightly dizzy with the blunt rudeness. However, he could not deny he preferred his position in such a manner and took his leave.

The front door seemed so close when he felt a hand grab hold of his shoulder, pulling him aside. Sweeney did not bother to turn immediately, knowing full well to whom that small hand belonged.

"Then she's alright?" Lucy asked fervently. "Johanna's alright?"

"Johanna is fine," he affirmed. Lucy sighed shakily, smiling.

"That's all I could have asked for. But please, I must know more- tell me, is there anything else to know? Is there anything at all?"

"I have missed as much as you over the years; I am unlikely to know anything." There was a sudden despondence in Lucy's eyes that he could not bear. He sighed and reluctantly continued. "She's the spitting image of you, I'll admit it."

"You think so?"

"Albeit the difference in her hair. Mrs Lovett had enough sense to collect some dyes to solve that."

"I knew I'd left her in good hands," she murmured softly, smiling to herself. There was a hesitant pause before Sweeney allowed himself to continue.

"It seems that our daughter had also caught the eye of what seems to be our young friend," he said, his lips threatening to smile at the thought.

"Our?"

"I've heard tell that you've become accustomed to a young Anthony Hope's presence?"

Lucy paused for a moment, the shock bringing her eyes up towards his and widening them to a point of childish curiosity. Her smile had become more hesitant, almost disappearing as she registered the idea.

"Small world," she said finally, tilting her head, though refusing to let her gaze leave Sweeney's.

"Isn't it just."

"Now I fear you must go," Lucy began heatedly, her anxiety getting the better of her voice. She put her hands on the barber's and pushed him further towards the door. "I fear if you stay here a moment longer either _he_ will find us or I will have lost the will to stay a moment longer apart from you."

"And why must we remain apart?" This was asked in a moment of mild rage and selfishness, but he could not say he regretted saying it. Lucy bit her lip and shook her head, still pushing him away.

"You will come back; your business is far too good for him to refuse it. Please, wait until then."

Sweeney was unable to refuse this as he found himself finally pushed from the house and left outside, the door closed before he could register the fact. He stared dumbly at the house for a moment, unable to move and unable to stand the idea of leaving. Despite any form of honour he had tried to display wrongly in front of his daughter, he could not help but feel the desperation and selfishness of an infant thinking of where his Lucy was and where she was meant to be.

* * *

The rain was unbelievably horrendous that day. It was unexpected, as well, considering the unseasonable warmth that had engulfed the city in the past week. Anthony took it in his stride, though, ignoring the shower that half-drowned him as he entered the shop. He shook his head and let the rain water splatter to the floor, catching the walls and window.

"I just cleaned that," Nellie murmured, batting the boy with the cloth in her hand. Anthony smiled sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair, attempting to drain the last of the water and wiped his hand lazily on his coat.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said, still grinning. "Is Johanna in?"

Nellie's face softened and she smiled in return, nodding towards the door leading into the parlour.

"In there, love."

Anthony waved his hand in gratitude and walked with an excitement that bordered on childish, much to Nellie's ill-disguised amusement. She returned her attention to the now considerably muddier window and sighed, scrubbing away just like before.

Johanna was sat on the floor with Toby leaning neatly with his head in her lap, looking up as she read from a small book, some collection of poems that Anthony could neither bother to investigate nor cared to do. He cleared his throat slightly with little reaction from Toby other than a lazy turn of the head and causing a sharp look from Johanna who smiled quite quickly upon recognising the figure.

"If you like, I could fetch you a towel before you try and sit down on our seats?"

"I hadn't exactly planned to sit."

"Then stand if you have to, but you'll have a long enough wait. Toby here wanted to listen to some-"

"Come on, now, can't you think of anywhere more exciting to read poetry? It was meant for the outdoors."

"It's raining," Johanna pointed out.

"So?"

"So I don't feel like drowning."

"When _was_ the last time you went out in the rain, hm?"

The point was taken as meaningless, but a good one. Johanna bit her lip and handed the book to Toby, smiling apologetically.

"I promise you I will continue when we come back," she said, stroking the boy's hair before standing and rushing to Anthony's side. She did not look backwards, thoroughly distracted now to the point where she quite nearly forgot to take hold of her shawl and cloak. Nellie only rolled her eyes when she saw the two leave the shop. With a slight twinge of jealousy, she watched the two link an arm with each other's and run down the street, half laughing as the ferocity of the rain caught them.

She wondered briefly whether Mr Todd had noticed the two running down the street through his window briefly before her curiosity was soothed as she heard a familiar thump of footsteps from the shop's steps.

"Before yeh say anything," Nellie began firmly, pointing with her cloth-wielding hand, "the two of 'em over powered me."

"Don't be a child," Sweeney barked, his eyes blazing. "You let them go?"

"Yes. I'll remind yeh, Mr T, they're both old enough to make that decision to leave the building by themselves."

"My daughter is currently _unchaperoned_ and in the company of a _sailor_, Lovett."

"_You're _paranoid."

With pursed lips, he turned towards the doorway with a determination to hunt down the two immediately, but was stopped by some invisible force that told him better.

"Let them act like children then," he said, not looking at Nellie as he made his way back towards his flat. She looked as he walked away, pausing before grinning to herself and shaking her head.

"That girl'll never marry," she muttered to herself, once again returning to the window.

* * *

The rain had refused to die down, a fact that didn't faze the two young lovers-to-be after they had found a bench that was, for the most part, protected by a large willow tree overlooking a small ravine.

"I must admit, I couldn't have imagined a better way to spend my day," Johanna mused, blinking as a large drop of water landed on her head.

"Then you haven't done much in life," Anthony replied, brushing the water from her head. She smiled up at him, finding herself noting how small she felt in comparison to him.

"I suppose you're used to all the water, though," she said after a short pause, her eyes not leaving his.

"Being a sailor and all that."

"I suppose so." Anthony grinned at the thought. "I was so used to it it took me days to be able to walk

properly on land again."

"Impossible!"

"No, I mean it! You can become so used to the ocean that land seems such a strange thing."

"I've never been at sea, I wouldn't know it."

"Then I must take you at some point, won't I?"

"Father wouldn't allow it."

"He wouldn't be able to stop you forever."

"You obviously, sir, do not know my father very well. No, I should think I'd have to marry to be able to leave and I very much doubt I will do such a thing."

"You are so sure of that?" Johanna blinked, smiling slowly.

"Are you so earnest, Anthony? I was quite sure before that you displayed some affection."

"I meant nothing of it!" Anthony said quickly, panicking. "Of course, I would never mean to offend-"

"You are not offending me, Anthony, in any other way than you expect me to believe that your

endearing closeness is anything other than some deep affection."

"Miss, I mean nothing by it, though I-"

"Anthony, I will admit to you that _I_ feel such affections, though it is not in my place as a woman to speak out about them. Though your insistence in being petulant is testing me and I have no other option but to confess it."

Anthony remained quiet, not at all confused but certainly stunned. Johanna could not help but laugh and reached out to hold the sailor's hand, the skin frozen by the weather in a similar fashion to her own.

"Now, Anthony," she began, squeezing his hand, "you mustn't drag a poor girl from the warmth into weather such as this without rewarding her for her obedience."

"And what would you recommend, m'lady?" Anthony asked, nervously smiling.

"That you kiss me as only a sailor can, of course!" Even Anthony could not remain embarrassed a moment longer and placed his spare hand that was not within Johanna's grasp on the small of her back and pulled her forward, kissing her.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Johanna said through a smile.

"I never expected it to be for a second." As if to prove his point, he pressed his lips to hers a second time, the sound of the rain suddenly gone to them. They barely noticed as the leaves of the willow tree gave into the pressure of the rain and doused them in the fresh waterfall.


	15. Chapter 15

It was expected that Mr Todd would not take the courtship lightly, and with any façade to hide his disapproval. The whole situation created a great deal of humour in both Nellie's and Johanna's eyes, though Anthony could barely set foot in the shop without fear of a blunt object flying towards him while he wasn't looking. Even Johanna had admitted that the fear was well placed.

The courtship had very little other impact on the lives of anyone but the two concerned and so it was silently but mutually agreed that it would be ignored and life would go on as per usual. Mr Todd still brooded when he found himself without work- a rarity now that his business had been advertised by the surprisingly true to his word Judge- and Nellie still made her pies, despite the lack of customers now that her pies had been advertised quite warningly by the customers who came by after a shave.

"I have no need for the money, just take the dreaded stuff," Mr Todd said on uncountable occasions, thrusting coins roughly over the table. Nellie smiled coyly without an ounce of thought before taking it.

"Thought yeh'd never offer, Mr T."

"The shop needs some real meat; I just don't want to witness any more illnesses down here."

Nellie poked out her tongue childishly and darted up, seeing the fresh bout of rain and the young couple that absent-mindedly wandered about the courtyard.

"Oi, you two, yeh'll catch yeh deaths if yeh don't come in," she hollered out the door.

"A little rain never hurt anyone, Nellie!" Johanna called back, laughing. Nellie shook her head and allowed the two their bit of freedom, though remained adamant and went to set a fire in the parlour's hearth and grab towels before they came in.

"You know, we should probably go inside," Anthony said after Nellie had left, as if suddenly aware of the weather.

"Now don't you start worrying about colds, Anthony."

"I'm more worried about _you_, perhaps it is too cold for you to be out right now-"

"Anthony, I haven't had a cold for as long as I can remember, I won't start now."

She kissed him quickly to stop him from arguing back, the method working well as Anthony shrugged to himself and wrapped his arms around her waist. They were unaware of their surroundings for a good few minutes before Johanna smiled to herself and pulled away.

"I think you should go," she whispered in Anthony's ear, squeezing him tightly.

"And why's that?"

"Because my father's watching us."

Anthony stiffened and quickly kissed Johanna's forehead before walking hurriedly from the courtyard. Johanna shook her head and made her way back into the shop. A towel was wrapped around her shoulders the moment she entered the shop and Johanna smiled gratefully towards her father.

"Thank you, father."

"Don't thank me just yet. I'd rather you didn't take such liberties in this house."

"We weren't in the house."

"You know what I mean, Johanna."

"Yes. But I will remind you, father, that I have lived here longer than you have and will take the

liberties that _Nellie_ allows."

Sweeney gave a light tap under his daughter's chin with his knuckle causing her smile to brighten a little more.

"At this rate I'll start to worry for the boy. You're a bad influence on him."

"Yes, I believe I am. So you needn't worry a moment longer on the situation."

"I will, my dear, I think I still will."

Shaking her head, Johanna pulled the towel from around her and began to loosen her hair from its bun. As she did so, she paced the floor, thinking.

"Father?" she asked finally, shaking her hair free and dabbing at it with the towel. "You are working at the Turpin household again soon, are you not?"

"Next Thursday."

"Then perhaps you require some help? An apprentice of sorts?"

"Johanna..."

"No, listen to me, father. You are unwilling to do a thing so far and I have yet to be in that household. You must understand, don't you?"

Mr Todd sighed and took Johanna's hand, pulling her towards him.

"You know it would be far too dangerous. If he saw us together on such close terms he may very well put it together."

"You give him too much credit."

"He is an evil man, Johanna, not a stupid one."

With a sigh Johanna wrung the towel out and folded it in her hands.

"I just want to see her."

There was such a dear sincerity in her tone that Sweeney could not help but pull her closer, stroking her hair gently to soothe the newfound sorrows. What else could he do but leave her in this shop? Until Lucy had escaped somehow there would be no way for them to meet, it seemed. But years with nothing to do but plot, Mr Todd found himself thinking a plan in his mind, unable to stop himself. If he had the ability to escape a prison of the highest known protection he would be able to do such a simple thing as find entrance for Johanna to a different kind of prison. He kissed her goodnight and let her disappear to her room, his lips sealed.

* * *

Roseanne looked out of the window as the barber approached the house, her maid attempting to brush out her hair.

"He's early today," Roseanne whispered, though with little enthusiasm and more curiosity. "He's earlier and earlier each visit."

"Well, you can't blame the man for want of a job," Cecilia, the maid, said in return, coiling strands of

hair around her finger before brushing it again. "And with someone so influential as your father."

"He's a curious man, though, don't you think?"

"I'm not paid to think," Cecilia replied, putting away the hairbrush. Roseanne ignored her, though, and leant forward to look through the window until Mr Todd disappeared into the house, audible in the entrance hall now.

Cecilia had her back turned as Roseanne left the room, running her fingers across the base of her spine to ensure the buttons and laces were sorted. It was the first day that Roseanne's curiosity had forced her to look into the hall at such a time, and she was more than surprised to see her mother standing there.

They spoke at a fast pace- or, at least, Lucy did, though Mr Todd remained silent for the most part with a pained look upon his face. Roseanne could not hear a word being said and leant forward, hoping not to be seen.

"-have to stop coming here for no reason. Either state your business with us Ben or leave us be, I can't stand this anymore."

"Keep your voice down, you'll cause a riot at this rate."

"Perhaps I want to! Will you not at least come into the parlour, explain things to me, you haven't once told me how you did it, why you're here-"

"I'm here because that child of yours asked me to."

"Don't think of her so informally, Ben. I could not stop what happened, if you must hold someone accountable then do not blame her."

"I do not blame her for a moment, you know very well who I blame."

"And don't you _dare_ start frightening me with such a threatening manner, I couldn't bear to think of you doing something dangerous."

Mr Todd paused before leaning ever so slightly forward and turning his tone to more of a quiet, sterner one that Roseanne could not hear from her position. Before she could move closer, though, Mr Todd moved away and instead entered a different room that she could not see, leaving her mother alone in the hallway.

"Mother?" Roseanne called out lightly, seeing her mother frozen to the spot. Her head turned sharply upwards to Roseanne and a shaky smile donned her lips.

"Roseanne. I hadn't seen you."

"I thought as much." She made her way down the stairs with her head low, unsure. Lucy looked tentatively from Roseanne to the doorway she knew that the Judge waited behind with this unfamiliar Mr Todd. "What are you looking at?"

Lucy shook slightly and turned to Roseanne, a bemused look on her face. How long had she been standing there?

"Nothing," she finally said, though even she could hear the wavering tone. "Nothing, darling."

There was no use in pursuing the topic. Lucy lightly placed a hand on Roseanne's shoulder before turning away and disappearing into the parlour, sniffing loudly. It was not rare to see her in such a state these days and so Roseanne did not move forward to offer her comforts, having done so many a time before but being shunned for the efforts.

Before long, Roseanne could hear Cecilia calling her name, and soon the sound was followed by the woman hobbling across the landing and peering over the banister.

"I still have your pearls and broche up here, you know."

"I can survive without jewels, Cecilia."

"Your father wanted you to wear them," she said, raising her hand that clearly gripped the pearls and broche. She hobbled down the staircase, her bones never ceasing to give her trouble, while Roseanne simply looked off towards the spare drawing room that her mother had watched Mr Todd walk through.

"You don't need to keep batting at me," Roseanne murmured as Cecilia started to fasten the clasp to her pearls. "Will you just leave me be?"

"But your father _wants_ you to wear them."

"And I don't _care_ that he wants it. Now stop it."

The woman paused, but continued.

"He's the one who hired me," Cecilia concluded, finishing off the clasp. Roseanne could only roll her eyes as the broche was pinned carefully and her hand was taken in attempts to drag her back up the stairs.

Cecilia had the strength in her age to pull Roseanne up two steps before Mr Todd and her father exited the room, the latter maintaining a rather pleased expressions while Mr Todd's showed nothing but indifference. Roseanne stopped and turned towards them, smiling slightly.

"It's early in the morning for you to be here, Mr Todd," Roseanne said with her head bowed in greeting. Mr Todd returned the action.

"I did not wish to take much of the family's time."

"I assure you that you can do no such thing," she said, looking towards her father who seemed to have immediately lost interest in the subject that did not pertain to himself or points of specific interest.

"Though perhaps there is little interest being portrayed in you being here."

"I had noticed," Mr Todd said, nodding his head again as if he made to leave. He spotted Cecilia, though, and for a moment paused as if thinking. In fact, Roseanne was almost sure that she could see his brain working a storm as he paused for those short seconds, if such a sight were possible. "And this is your nanny?" The comment was said to humorously insult, to be taken lightly, but Roseanne could not help but blush.

"A maid, if you're so interested."

"I'm not." Mr Todd bowed his head in turn to Cecilia and moved to the door.

"I assume we will see you in a fortnight's time, Mr Todd?"

"As you wish, sir. Though firstly, I must request a private word, if I may?"

The Judge looked stunned for a moment, but maintained a cooler facade soon after and followed Mr Todd towards the doorway who changed his features to that of a morose desperation, almost mourning.

"Sir, I am afraid I have noticed something that may be of importance," he began in a hushed voice.

"Oh, you think so?"

"I do. You see, I have quickly surveyed your daughter's maid, nanny, whatever she may be, and I believe I have seen similarities in her condition to that of a late friend of my landlady's."

"Condition? I have heard nothing of the sort from her."

"Though in all honesty, sir, I doubt you have listened. Yes, can you not see the way she haunches? Aching bones? Withered appearance? I have seen it before, sir, and it seems an early stage of consumption if I am right."

"Then of course I will have to request this information from her in person-"

"No, sir, I do not believe it wise," Mr Todd said daringly. "Would you not think that she would lie to maintain her position? No, she would not, I think. For your daughter's sake, I would dismiss this woman immediately. Lord knows how soon it would be before the family is infected."

The Judge nodded and patted the barber's shoulder, as if speaking to a wise old friend.

"You are right, Mr Todd, I should do so at once. Thank you, it is an honest man indeed who would take his time to warn of his theories."

"Simply a Christian man," Mr Todd replied, the words burning his tongue. Then he turned to the door and left without another word.

* * *

Johanna and Anthony sat closely at one of the booths in the shop as Mr Todd entered, Johanna's feet propped up on Anthony's lap and he playing with her hair. Anthony stiffened and let loose the locks when he spotted Mr Todd, but Johanna laughed instead.

"You're looking pleased with yourself," Johanna noted, tapping her toes together childishly.

"I have a right to," Mr Todd replied, placing his bag on the floury counter. "I have good news."

"You? Good news? I thought I'd never see the day!"

"If you'll be so tart I mightn't tell you."

Johanna then smiled lightly and widened her eyes, clasping her hands together. Sweeney shook his head but relented quickly, turning towards her and leaning against the counter.

"I have found you a job."


	16. Chapter 16

Anthony could see a light sweat upon Johanna's brow but chose not to mention it, in which case she would have been sent into an even deeper panic. He only clasped her hand tightly and allowed her to break his fingers with the strength of her fear. He finally stopped her at the corner of the street, Johanna slightly surprised.

"I'm barred from that house, I'll remind you," Anthony said apologetically.

"Then... then thank you for taking me this far."

"You needn't worry. You're going to get the position, I know it."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of, Anthony."

He kissed her cheek gently hearing this, offering what little support he could, but all his affections. Johanna smiled slightly and passed a hand over her forehead, and as she did so her countenance changed to a new one, a confident one, the Johanna he had met all that time ago. She smiled towards him briefly before walking on with her chin up and shoulders braced.

As he stood there, Anthony could not help but wonder _if she can change so quickly, what on Earth is she hiding when she does that?_ The thought was a frightening one, but he chose not to persist it while not in her presence. Slowly, almost too slowly for his liking, he moved on, pausing every so often to look back as if Johanna would change her mind.

Johanna was led into the parlour by one of the servants and left alone for some time while the Judge was found and brought to her. In such a time, she mused and looked about the portraits that hung on the walls, one familiar one hanging above the fireplace. The first figure that could be seen in said portrait was Roseanne, looking only slightly younger and stiff in her position. Uncomfortable. Johanna did not care for looking at the Judge too long as he stood proud, so her eyes moved instead towards the willowy, blonde woman who lay a light hand on Roseanne's shoulder. She smiled and bowed her head at the sight.

And quite suddenly, she was there.

Johanna had not taken the time in the past to think of what she would say when finally meeting her mother, instead only what she would feel. But whatever openness she thought she would be allowed to express was blunted by the sight of the Judge accompanying her. Hurriedly, Johanna curtseyed low.

"Milord."

"I don't believe we know you," the Judge said in a low voice, staring with vague displeasure.

"No, you do not, sir. I am here as I have heard that a member of staff as recently been made indisposed, so to say, and have come to apply for her place."

"We have not made the notion public since then."

"A woman has her ways of finding such things out, though," Johanna said, regaining her confidence.

_It's just like being in a shop. Just make them think you have a fucking clue_.

"Does she indeed?" At least it seemed to work. The Judge humoured her, arching his eyebrows as he moved forward, Lucy following him with lowered eyes. "Then I suppose for the sheer cheeks, we should allow an interview, shouldn't we?"

"Or perhaps simply a speech on my part," Johanna said, watching cautiously as Lucy walked silently across the room and sat at the windowsill, looking out towards the garden. Her head then snapped back forwards. "I have not been under employment by men of such standing as yours but I have worked half my life, I will not shy away from whatever duties I am assigned, I know my place and shall of course not disturb you and your family when not required and will work any hours. I do not care for a large pay sum; I am here to make myself useful."

The Judge was somewhat stunned, but impressed. _Thatta girl, Johanna._

"Then I suppose we have no qualms with your working here," he said. Johanna was so lost in her own smile at the news that she did not care about the nature of his. "I shall expect you here tomorrow morning. Eight sharpish. Our daughter has lost a personal maid and I am sure she will do well with you."

Johanna nodded and curtseyed again, waiting for the Judge to turn his back on her before rising again. A shiver ran down her spine as she realised quite suddenly that she was alone in the room now apart from one particular woman, still sitting at the windowsill. How to begin a conversation? No, there was no way. Johanna resigned herself to her failed cause and picked up her bag and moved towards the doorway.

"Don't come back tomorrow. If you know what's good for you."

She paused and turned her head slowly. Lucy has most certainly spoken, though she had not budged an inch.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't come back. No good will come of it."

_Does she know? Does she recognise me? Why doesn't she want me here? Is it dangerous? Is it painful?_

"You think so? And why is that?"

"Many girls have come in here, your age, as pretty as you- less pretty in most cases. Each left here with child or with a loss of respect." She sighed lightly. "Some never left at all."

It was a queer statement in that Johanna could not understand why it had been said. Oh, yes, she knew what it meant. She knew all too well. But what comfort lay in her company that she should be so free as to say it out loud?

"I have no such fears," Johanna said finally, as confidently as she could through a shaking tone.

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I am quite sure I am safe. That nothing will happen to me while I am here."

"Then perhaps you are too confident for your own good." Lucy passed a hand across her eyes, halting any flow of tears. When she spoke again, her voice was choked. "I see no reason why you should think yourself of a new league, untouchable to him."

"Because he can't touch family."

There was a pause in the air that echoed uncomfortably. Lucy absorbed the sentence slowly, almost too slowly, but looking up sharply out of the window, her mouth open as she took in breath in attempts to stop herself from fainting. She looked towards Johanna, but it was too late. The girl had already gone, taking her reticule with her. The front door closed and Lucy felt herself slump against the wall, losing her strength and will.

* * *

Roseanne had heard the conversation that took place between her father and the young lady who had entered the house. Though she had not seen her clearly, she was most definitely young, and vaguely familiar. In fact, she sounded awfully familiar too, but it was the least of her problems that she may know this girl who had invaded their house. It was instead the fact that her father was so quick to hire the young girl whose name had never once been mentioned. She knew why, of course. She must have been a very pretty girl.

She had crept back to her room after her father left the parlour, awaiting him to come to her with the news of a new personal maid. There was no need to listen to his excuses for hiring her when eventually he did turn up, a satisfied smile on his lips.

_She seems ever so much younger than your previous maid. You remember how out of touch she was with the modern world? Well, think of it, a younger maid is more likely to be a better friend, isn't she?_

Roseanne wanted at first to scream at him, to chide him for his lies and deceit, but refused to do so. She was his father and whether she wished to or not, she was bound to obey his order. He seemed unaware that she was only vaguely listening and so was content when she muttered her appreciations.

It was a long day after this in the same way most days were long. There were uncountable arguments taking place in the parlour that Roseanne could barely keep track. Not that she could make out the conversation, that is, she instead only heard the tone of anger from both parties. She distracted herself as well as she could, but it seemed over the past months she had read every book in the room…

* * *

Sweeney had little to no time to register the tears in Johanna's eyes as she re-entered the shop before Nellie grabbed hold of the girl, tearing her away from Anthony and dragging her into a bedroom. There was a pause before he turned to Anthony who in turn was just as surprised at the abruptness.

"What happened to her?"

"She wouldn't tell me when I asked."

"Did she at least say whether she got the position?" Sweeney asked in earnest, clenching his fists to suppress excitement in his voice.

"I assume so, she at least muttered something affirmative when I asked that."

"At least we have that to our advantage," he said with a sigh, patting the boy's shoulder with a form of respect he had not shown to that day. "Thank you, lad, for going with her."

"Oh, no problem at all, sir, I assure you," Anthony replied, looking towards the parlour. "Should I go in there?"

"Lad, I wouldn't wish the fate that would await you there on anyone."

Anthony nodded and instead waited in the shop as Mr Todd instead ventured upwards to his own flat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Perhaps it was not as clever on his part as he had thought to put Johanna forward in such a way, to give her the option to work in that household. Of course she would have said yes, that was the way it worked. But she was young. Only seventeen years old. It was far too much.

But perhaps tomorrow would be different for her. She was a strong girl. She had only cried the once when she had finally met him, it was only natural that she should need to repeat the action upon seeing her mother.

* * *

Nellie closed the door as softly as she could as she left, having left Johanna peacefully sleeping off her previous anxieties. She herself brushed a hand across her eyes, just in case.

_AN- I'm really sorry this is late, I really am, life's just been a bit hectic lately. Very hectic. I've just not been in the mood to write. But hey, I'm back, and hopefully we can get this back on track :D_


	17. Chapter 17

Johanna tapped her toes together as she stood on the doorstep, waiting for someone to answer the knock at the door. Finally the answer did come as a timid looking male servant opened the door, bowing his head.

"You're here for the new position, aren't you?" he asked quietly, keeping his head bowed.

"I am."

"I've been told to take you into the parlour, then, 'fore the master comes in to give you your duties."

"Oh… thank you, then." She did not bother to pursue any further conversation, knowing it was both pointless and impossible. Johanna was led into the familiar parlour where she had previously been sent to and was left alone to await her orders. The same paintings stared at her and the same musty scent in the air filled her lungs.

The wait for company was almost too long despite the relatively short amount of time she waited in reality, but Johanna could not help but be both grateful and disdainful of the company she soon found. She turned abruptly when she heard the door open and froze when she saw that it was not the master of the house who had come to her, but rather the mistress.

Lucy looked behind her briefly as she entered and closed the door as quietly as she could. She did not smile as she did so and nor did she seem in any other way pleased.

"You still have time, leave now."

Johanna did not move, but her brow furrowed as she watched Lucy move about the room, drawing the curtains on one side and checking that no one was behind the second door leading to another unknown room. At one point she did a double take seeing that Johanna had not shifted an ounce and shook her head, still moving, still checking.

"I will not take no for an answer, just leave here now. Go!"

"Do you not want me here?" Johanna asked timidly, her voice quiet and breaking. Lucy stopped abruptly and turned towards Johanna, her hands shaking.

"Of course I-" She stopped and lowered her shaking hands which had been held out apologetically. "Of course I want you here, I want nothing else more, but-"

"I will take care of myself," Johanna interrupted sharply, straightening herself as persuasively as she could.

"There is no better way to do so than _leaving_, now, please."

Johanna opened her mouth to speak again until the door behind her was opened, causing a silence to shiver through the room. She lifted her chin slightly as Lucy lowered hers, looking towards the Judge who now entered the room and bowing as he approached her.

"Promptly on time, I see," he said with an air of the impressed.

"Five minutes early, if I might say, milord." Not knowing how to reply to such a statement, he only nodded and looked towards his wife.

"Haven't you something else to do? Organising the servants has never been your forte."

Lucy blushed fiercely and looked once more to Johanna. She could feel her blood go cold but nevertheless left the room, though left the door open in case her fears were founded. Johanna watched this happen with a forced disinterest and then returned her attention to the Judge who had become quiet. He then noticed her attentions had turned and smiled a smile that took Johanna quite by surprise; it seemed almost sincere.

"I have organised your duties, Miss…"

"Johanna, sir, Johanna Bar-" she paused for a moment, almost too long to be supposed a stutter. She coughed, clearing her throat. "Bartlett. Johanna Bartlett, sir."

"If you'll follow me, then."

She did so, keeping her head humbly down as she contemplated. Perhaps the Judge now thought her a fool, but it was better that way, she supposed. At least he would not be at all suspicious of her name. Perhaps. In any case, if he were in any way suspicious he did not let on the fact and continued down the hallways until he stopped at a closed door and knocked thrice, waiting patiently for a few moments before a quiet voice bade him entrance.

The Judge led Johanna into the room and Johanna saw that in there sat the familiar face of Roseanne who pulled a thin shawl around her shoulders more hastily when she noticed a new face in the room.

"Roseanne, this is Miss Bartlett, your new maid. Now, Miss Bartlett, I will leave my daughter here to command any more tasks to you, but I expect her to be prepared by two o'clock sharpish in the entrance hall."

"Of course, sir," Johanna said, curtseying until the Judge nodded with approval and left. She looked up once the door had closed and then returned her attention to Roseanne who stared back, although more quizzically than she had expected. They stared at each other for a moment, Johanna remaining as still as she could so as to allow herself to be observed while Roseanne slowly tilted her head to the side, eyes widening slightly with deep thought.

"Aren't you that girl from the barber shop?"

"That all depends on the barber shop, ma'am," Johanna said, a tad too forward even for her liking.

"Don't play games with me. You're the one from Mr Todd's shop. I recognise you. You're no Miss Bartlett."

"Do you plan to report me?" The question was meant as a dare of sorts, though a quiver of fear ran through Johanna's voice.

"Not unless you can give me a good enough reason _not_ to." They continued to stare at each other, though a competition of sorts had begun between the two as if to call the other's bluff. Finally, Johanna bowed her head and bit her lip. _Think quickly_.

"My father is already quite a regular worker within the household and he thought it would be rude of me to come along trying to claim more of your fathers money for our upkeep. If I came under a false name then he seemed to think it would appear less of a desperate situation."

She looked up through her eyelashes towards Roseanne who still scrutinised her for a few moments before turning her back on her new maid and picking up a brush that had been left discarded on the vanity in front of her.

"Then you can get your moneys worth by getting out one of the thinner gowns from the cupboard. As a little test, choose whichever you like and I shall see if it suits."

Johanna nodded despite the fact that Roseanne did not look at her once and moved calmly to the wardrobe, making her movements deliberate, trying to prove her worth not only to the girl before her, but to herself. _Act the part, don't give away anything, pretend this is normal, pretend it isn't so strange, pretend-_

"I must say it's rather curious you being here," Roseanne said after a few minute's silence, seemingly bored of the stony silence between them. "Father so rarely hires a girl so young, my last maid was positively ancient."

"Perhaps it is for your benefit, ma'am, I very much doubt she was of use to you."

"No, you're right, she wasn't."

"I have the dress for you, ma'am." Roseanne looked up as Johanna pulled out a light frock of pale lilac, offering it with a wary face. To her surprise, Roseanne could not help but give a small smile in return as she reached out and brushed the fabric.

"It's my favourite," she said, looking up towards Johanna whose features hid no trace of relief. Roseanne rose without any hint of the previous distance and assisted Johanna in putting the dress on even, as if she had been playing a petulant game all along. She was manoeuvred in front of the full length mirror where she picked at small strands of spare thread that had found its way onto the skirts as Johanna pulled at various strings and laces towards the back.

"Might I be so bold to ask, ma'am," Johanna began slowly, "what it is you are to be prepared for?"

"You will be so bold whether I give you permission to or not, I expect," Roseanne retorted, though she did not seem as bitter as her words. She paused before continuing. "It is nothing, I assure you, I am only to accompany father's work colleague to the market."

"A trip you take often?"

"Oh yes, very."

"At your father's request or the colleague's?"

"How daring of you to ask! I wouldn't know, it is none of my business."

"Is he a handsome fellow?"

At this, Roseanne laughed to a point where Johanna quite suddenly lost the grip of the laces. Roseanne recovered quickly, placing a hand over her mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry, _I_ should certainly have not been so daring in my answer. His visage is of little consequence, I do not accompany him so as to stare at him."

"Then why do you do so?"

"Because father requests it, of course! Now, really, you mustn't ask me anymore questions for you are silly to ask such things and I am silly to answer them."

Johanna smiled to herself as she finished tying the laces and brushed at the material of the shoulders.

"As you wish, ma'am."

For a moment Roseanne looked over her shoulder towards Johanna but then returned to her reflection. It really was her favourite dress.

* * *

Two o'clock came and Roseanne went precisely on schedule, at which point the Judge, seeking his money's worth it seemed, sent Johanna along with the servant boy she had first come in contact with to the pantry in the cellar to accompany him in his work. The boy still did not speak as they moved on but offered a charming enough air that Johanna felt no need to speak for fear of offending him.

It was a short walk and in minutes Johanna was led into a warm, fresh room that reminded her somewhat of Nellie's shop when she was little, before the cleaning had gone to pot. There were a few people already comfortable and lazing about until the door opened, at which point they stood straight, almost petrified. Then, seeing the boy and Johanna, they quickly relaxed again.

"Coulda told us you were coming back Rob," the eldest man in the room said, half joking, half chiding. "Gave us a bit of a fright."

"I can't bloody well help it, can I?" Rob retorted, causing Johanna to jump slightly at the careless tone and free words. She was not offended by them, of course, but was nevertheless startled that the practically mute boy was so liberal. "The master didn't tell me why he wanted me."

"So this is the new one the master's ordered?"

"I'd prefer Johanna," she said, staring down the old man until he laughed.

"Fair enough. Nothing much for you to do here, haven't a clue really why he sent you down."

"Well, you might as well make use of her," said one of the women who had made herself from the left wall, leaning against the counter. She gave a warm enough smile, comforting in the motherly way that was familiar in Nellie's own smile, though of course not to heart warming. "Come here, you can help us out with the beef."

"Thought you bought them veal?" Rob asked, sitting up on the counter beside her.

"Ah, you know the master, he can't tell the difference between turkey and cod half of the time. Only the mistresses can tell and believe you me, they couldn't care less what's put in front of them 'slong as it's had a bit of effort in it."

"Do you speak to them often?"

"Nah, only the once. Pleasant enough girls if I recall."

Johanna nodded, bowing her head over the slab of meat set before her and grabbing the tenderising mallet beside it. Her hair covered her face as she smiled to herself at the news. The elder servants in the room paid little to no attention to her presence in the room which, surprisingly, Johanna found somehow more comforting than the attention she was quite afraid of gaining. They had gathered a knowledge in life that disallowed them intense curiosity and so they did not see fit to bother Johanna greatly.

However, the young boy dubbed Rob had not had the chance to dismiss curiosities and so entertained himself enough by standing beside Johanna, quiet for a while before his interest was spared.

"So what're you doing here anyway?" he asked.

"I'm tenderising beef."

"No, you know what I mean. You seem a little too… too…"

"Far too pretty to waste my time as a common babysitter, yes, I know."

"I was thinking fancy or posh or something like that."

Johanna laughed aloud at this, shaking her head.

"Posh? Never thought I'd be described as posh."

"Well, you _look _it at least."

"It doesn't matter what I look like. I'm here like any of you are, to earn my keep."

"Why here?"

"Bigger house, bigger pay," she replied with a shrug.

"Couldn't have said it better myself!" the older man said, laughing, having overheard the conversation.

"So you're the personal maid they wanted then?" Robert continued. Johanna nodded. "Best keep yourself quiet in the house, then, if you know what's good for you."

"I've already been warned."

"And you're not scared?"

"It's my first day, I'd like to wait before I become paranoid."

Robert smiled, doubtful, but silent once more. They continued conversing after some time, though only to gossip as the younger generation would when distanced from the elder generation's stories of families and such. Johanna was quite sure at this time that she a was a fool to not be on her guard, yet she could not help the ease she felt in that moment, however ill placed it was.


	18. Chapter 18

Johanna relished her first day of freedom when it came by, the Judge having deemed her services useless each Sunday when the Church occupied the family's time. Nellie saw fit to close down the already empty shop and gather everyone in the parlour. Johanna saw her father almost visibly shudder when he noticed the picnic basket in the crook of Nellie's elbow and could not help but laugh.

"It's about time we finally got some fresh air in yeh, Mr T," Nellie said, noting his sour features. "Why can't yeh cheer up, eh? Toby's all excited, yeh might wanna take a lesson from _him_."

"Father hasn't the same inclination as the rest of us, Nellie," Johanna said, entwining her arm with him. She saw him relax notably but he still shook his head.

"I'd have thought there was something other than a picnic you could think to do in this awful weather."

"You've survived through worse, sir, and in a far worse state," Anthony said as bravely as he could, still quite frightened of the man's reaction in his presence. Of course, the ladies noticed, and had always delighted in any small notion of tension in the room if only for a simple laugh.

As they were walking, Johanna noticed the reluctance in her father's walk, the heaviness of his arm and the glazed look in his eye that appeared almost painful. Natural sunlight simply didn't do him well. Toby prattled on ahead with Anthony, excitedly talking as if with a lost friend. Anthony's pride disallowed him to involve himself in the conversation at first, keeping his head high and rolling his eyes several times over and Toby's joviality, though it did not take long for him to finally give into his better instincts and laugh alongside the boy, acting almost as childish as he did.

The park itself was relatively empty, the Sunday service having gathered many a visitor. Within minutes Toby had dragged Anthony off with a kite and the two played together for some time. Johanna shook her head, leaning against her father's shoulder and allowing him to place an arm around her while Nellie arranged the items they had gathered on the blanket.

"Not much of a feast," Nellie said brightly, "but it'll do."

"Come off it, at the rate those two are going we won't get a crumb," Johanna laughed. "You'd have thought they came from the same mother the way they go on."

"Just yeh wait till 'e pops the question, they'll be thick as thieves."

"I'll have none of this marriage talk," Mr Todd murmured heavily, staring daggers at Nellie who only chuckled.

"_You_ know as well as I do, Mr T, Anthony's infatuated. If Johanna's gonna marry _anyone_, it's him."

"Nellie!" Johanna squealed, mortified, batting the woman's arm lightly. "You have no dignity whatsoever."

"Not at all!"

Johanna noticed her father's arm grow slightly firmer across her shoulders as he drew her in somewhat protectively.

"You'll not be married, you know, as long as I can make sure of it."

"Oh, father, you'd bow to my every whim and you know it," she retorted, giggling to herself. He did not reply to this but only closed his eyes, in deep thought it seemed for the time being. Though Nellie held no remorse, she remained quiet on the subject from that point onwards for the day.

Johanna, on the other hand, never let it leave her mind.

* * *

Lucy knew very few pleasures in life, but even the remotest idea of freedom gave her heart a small reason to lift and beat. Once a week, she was permitted two hours outside, if only for the church service. It was only a small luxury, but luxuries were far and few between nowadays and she grasped on tightly to that faith in the oncoming hours she would spend away from that dreaded household.

It was a small freedom, to say the least. She still found herself planted on the arm of her _husband_, feigning a smile. She'd become quite good at it over the years. Whenever someone waved or spoke to them, she would simply smile prettily and bow her head slightly. The perfect wife.

Even Rosanne believed that Lucy was at her happiest at these times, the smiles deceived her so well. In her mind there was never a more devout woman than her own mother, the woman whose brightest moment came when she was to attend church. It gave Roseanne a better opinion of whatever the sermon would be at that time, and she was quite determined to love it as dearly and smiled just as brightly, the eagerness of bettering herself clear in her salutations to those who walked by.

There had never been a prettier picture of a family walking the streets of London. Well, barely a happier family, for it would be hard to tell. Though the opinion was high of the Turpin household- for the most part- even the most relied on family friends noticed that they were rarely seen together, only on the greater importance's such as today. But this again was put down to many different things. A woman as devout as Lucy would not wish to go about socialising in the same way that other women did, she did not take pleasure in gossip and laughter when she could instead sew or work. The Judge was always out working, disappearing for hours on end in his court house. Afterwards, it was only natural that he should take an hour or two with his work companions, or even seeking the company of strangers. It was sociable.

And their daughter? Well, even the most ignorant of people could see that there were plans for young Roseanne and the beadle. She was most certainly the most known of the Turpin household, out on the streets at least twice a week with her hand placed gently on the beadle's arm. They did not stare at each other as other couples might, perhaps due to Roseanne's age, perhaps due to their chaste affections, but their constant companionship certainly created quite a gossip through the town.

They were not aware of it, of course. Lucy barely heard a word from other women other than the courteous 'Good morning's and general chit chat that one would deem polite, while Roseanne was a naive child many ways who wouldn't have cottoned on even with the plain facts before her. Even if someone did say such a thing to her, what were they to know? She had no intentions of marrying the beadle, and he had never been anything but a perfect gentleman. She was in need of a chaperone and with her mother always resigned to the household, who else was she to be accompanied by?

Lucy found herself increasingly distracted that afternoon as they rode back to their home. It was, after all, Johanna's first day off since she first entered the Turpin home, and little to no sign had been given of affairs and events that had taken place in the past sixteen years. She felt she would die with the aching tension that built in her bones, dying to hear some scrap of news that would relieve her. She decided at that point that come Monday, she would steal Johanna way if only for a few minutes to wring whatever affection and discussion she could get from her.

"What are you looking at?" The Judge's tone was only slightly bitter, holding back some irritation that had been forming. Lucy flinched slightly and realised that she had been somewhat occupied by the streets outside; she often found more solace in her folded hands on her lap.

"The public gardens, I suppose most people visit them after church."

"We aren't 'most people' now, are we?"

"It isn't at all worth it, mama," Roseanne said quickly, sensing the longing in her mother's voice.

"Children screeching like banshees, you would have thought you were in Bedlam."

They fell silent again for a moment, a silence that thickened the air. After a short time, the Judge cleared his throat and turned to his daughter.

"I have organised for you to go out again tomorrow morning. Eleven o'clock."

"Oh," Roseanne began quietly, looking down to her feet. She paused for a short moment before lifting her head again. "I'd rather hoped I could... I could stay at home? Johanna promised to show me how to stitch gloves tomorrow; you know how hopeless I am."

"It has already been pre-arranged, Roseanne."

"Yes, but we don't _need_ anything, do we? If we did I could very well go later in the week. I'm at last making full use of one of the servants and am _enjoying it_. You know that they're usually such a bore, I'd far rather stay home."

"I said that it has already been decided. Now stop arguing the point."

She bit her lower lip quickly to silence herself and bowed her head again. There was no use in arguing with him, he always won. Lucy wished to reach a hand out to her at that moment but refrained, certain it would do no good to either of them.

They entered the house and spent a minute or so organising coats before the Judge gave in on the very idea and, pressing a quick, heartless kiss to each of his girls' foreheads, bid them good day and left with no explanation of his expected whereabouts. It had become a regular thing over the years and neither of them seemed too surprised. Most of the time, Roseanne would automatically return to her room, though paused today for a short time as Lucy organised herself.

"You could sneak out now, you know," Roseanne said.

"And why would I do that?"

"You looked like you wanted to step out. I just thought… well, he's not here. He can't stop you."

"No, I'll have to wait here," Lucy said quietly, casting her eyes down slowly. "You know as well as I do that he expects me to be here."

"Oh, mama, you know he won't be back for _hours_," Roseanne busted out with a newfound irritation. "He doesn't care enough about us to even think of coming back before his fill's been had."

"Bite your tongue, Roseanne. I won't have you speaking like that."

"But you know that he doesn't care about us! What do you think he's doing right now? Off finding some- some tart!"

"He can fuck whoever he wants as far as I'm concerned," Lucy snapped, causing Roseanne to flinch slightly at the coarse language. "But as long as I live I _won't_ allow him to stop you from being anything but a lady. He won't take that away from you."

"And what good will that do me?"

Lucy looked up sharply with fresh tears in her eyes, glazing her vision. She attempted to speak but her lips pressed tightly together as she felt herself give way to a repressed sorrow.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered at last, stretching out a hand towards her daughter. Roseanne was tentative at first but held her hand with great strength, pulling them together into a tight embrace. "I didn't want it to be like this."

Roseanne did not question this and instead resumed to hold her mother tightly until her tears passed. It did not take long. Moments such as these came and went throughout the years and they had never taken much time to pass. Life always continued as per usual afterwards, they had always kept strong in this faith.

**A/N- Hmmmmm, it is now March. I last updated in… August. Right, well, in case you hadn't noticed, I've been a little busy :P Honestly, I've been really bad at keeping up with **_**everything**_** I do, not just this. So yeah, hopefully people will get interested in this again, if not it doesn't matter, I just really wanted to continue and finish this eventually :D**** Sorry again for the delay! And I hope anyone who previously read this is still interested after all this time x**


	19. Chapter 19

"I wish I didn't have to go," Roseanne murmured, quite forgetting that Johanna could clearly hear her as she brushed her hair. Johanna remained quiet and continued, pretending she couldn't hear a thing. She looked once or twice in the vanity mirror that they both faced, noting small details as she brushed away.

It was strange how little they looked alike. Roseanne's features barely mirrored her mother's in any way and the only resemblance they held to each other was the way they carried themselves and the slender shoulders that always seemed to be held tightly as if in preparation for contact. No, everything else was perfectly Turpin, aesthetically at least. It was sad to say that she was as much her mother as Johanna was her father, though the hair dyed at Nellie's insistence perhaps covered this fact.

The time dragged by like hours when at last Roseanne gave in and batted Johanna way, claiming enough was enough and that she was satisfied with whatever appearance she should make.

"Perhaps if I aggravate them enough they shall finally leave me be!" she cried out sharply as she walked out the door. Johanna followed her quickly, picking up the reticule left on the bed as she did so and skipping slightly to catch up.

"Please, slow down, you'll forget half your things at this rate!"

"Then let me forget them, I _don't care_!"

The beadle had at this moment been allowed entrance into the house by Lucy, though she held a bitter air as he entered the hallway. Roseanne placed a smile on her face as she descended the staircase, slowing her pace considerably as she created the image of perfect serenity.

"Oh! I am sorry if I've kept you waiting, I'm afraid we've chattered on far too long."

"Not at all, miss," he replied, smiling a greasy smile that almost made Johanna's stomach turn.

"You've forgotten your pendant," Johanna said quietly as they reached the bottom of the steps.

Roseanne turned to face her with an expression of sincere thanks and lifted her hair in preparation for the clasp. As she did so, though, the beadle stepped forward and put out a hand to halt her.

"I've taken the liberty of treating you, miss, if you don't mind waiting." He reached into his pocket and brought out a small box, opening it to reveal a quite exquisite necklace. Gold, of course, with a small pendant containing a single ruby in the centre. It was beautiful, yes, though each of the three women looked at it and seemed to recoil. Roseanne recovered first and placed a hand to her heart, smiling.

"Oh, it's the necklace father pointed out! My, that you should remember it? You really shouldn't have."

Johanna noted that the manner in which the beadle clasped the necklace around Roseanne's neck was listless, to say the least, with little glee in the gift. It was something that occurred often by the looks of things. She noted, though, that Roseanne did not seem to see the suspicious situation she was in the same way as both she and Lucy did. The girl's previous distain had been for the force placed on her rather than the company she kept, and in the beadle's company she seemed to find at least some solace in a regular, innocent enough face.

Well, innocent in her eyes.

When they had left, Johanna looked sidelong towards Lucy, wondering whether it was best to speak. The other woman was quite quiet, though, and it seemed as if such an idea would be useless. She slowly turned towards the kitchens where Johanna usually found herself working when Roseanne had disappeared for the afternoon, but her wrist was caught quickly by Lucy who placed a finger to her lips. She was taken to the parlour where they had first met, what seemed to be the usual gathering place of the family whenever discussions were to be held.

Lucy locked the door behind them, pausing for a moment after having done so and keeping her hand firmly on the key. With a small sigh, she unlocked it, less enthused and with a certain air of sadness.

"If you want to leave, you can," she said slowly, thinking over each syllable. "I don't want you to, but you can if you wish."

"Unless you offend me I would see no reason to."

"It isn't in my best wishes to offend you," Lucy replied with a weak smile. "I just want to speak to you for a short while."

Johanna did not know how to reply to this, of course, and simply stood there swaying slightly. The two remained silent for a short moment before Lucy moved forward and sat down gently at the edge of one of the seats. Johanna took the seat opposing it, slightly pushing it back as she sat.

"Roseanne's taken quite a liking to you," Lucy said at last, attempting a stronger smile. "Cecilia bored her so much, it's nice to see her have a friend at last."

"Oh, I'm sure she has friends greater than I."

"She sees people almost as rarely as I do"

"But with the beadle I'd assumed she-"

"That blasted man, he's under strict instructions to limit her interactions."

It was noted that Lucy seemed quite close to tears at this moment and Johanna took it upon herself to quickly stutter a distraction.

"Nellie misses you dearly, you know." Lucy looked up at this and truly smiled.

"She really does?"

"Tosh! Of course she does! She wouldn't ever allow me to forget."

"And she has taken good care of you, hasn't she?"

"The very best, I couldn't have asked for better," Johanna replied, an eagerness in her tone that made her cut the end of her sentence sharply. Lucy nodded her head slowly and wavered in the conversation. They were quiet once more with little else to speak about. At least, little else that Lucy would allow, considering her position in the household at that moment. She was never sure of where her husband would be at any given point and did not wish to be found, especially if her conversation should give anything away.

"How… how is your father?"

"He's fine. I'm sure. For the most part."

"For the most part?"

"Even I'm not to find out why apparently, he keeps so many things to himself."

Lucy nodded again. It was the only response she could think of. A creaking in the staircase outside made both of them flinch slightly, Johanna standing as if to attention at the sound. The footsteps were slow and heavy, the realisation making Lucy shiver.

"He _always_ must appear at the most inconvenient times."

Almost immediately after this having been said, the door opened to reveal the Judge, a mildly surprised look in his eyes as he saw this unlikely collection of people in his parlour, but nevertheless composed in the way he entered the room.

"I had thought you'd be down in the kitchens by now."

"The mistress called upon me for other duties," Johanna said levelly. "Which I'm afraid I must attend to. Good afternoon."

She left hastily, keeping her head bent and hands folded. It did not escape Lucy's notice that the Judge watched her as she left, curiosity in his eyes. At this Lucy stood, her eyes stony. Her husband looked towards her innocently enough, smiling.

"Making good use of her, are we?"

"I know very well what you're thinking right now," Lucy said bluntly, her voice quivering. "Don't you dare."

"And what could you be thinking, my dear?"

"Don't play these silly games anymore, not with her. She's barely older than your daughter!"

"I think you're accusing me of something sordid, my dear. Don't do it, suspicion doesn't befit you."

"I'm never anything but suspicious where you're concerned," she spat, folding her arms. "And don't you dare try to pretend that I'm paranoid in doing so."

He only smirked at this and moved forward, reaching out to place a hand on the back of her neck, his usual movement in times of endearment. Lucy flinched away, though, before contact could be made, stepping backwards. The smirk did not leave his face, though, instead growing wider.

"I'm not a _bad_ man, you know," he said, raising an eyebrow at her doubt. Lucy scoffed, the only utterance she could make to express her disgust.

* * *

Anthony and Johanna had been pushed from their little booth in the shop as of late due to the new number of customers that Nellie had been receiving now that her infamous pies had taken a better turn to famous. There was still always a table in the courtyard left for them to sit at, seating themselves on the table and letting their legs kick freely. They passed quite a bit of time in silence, as if little was needed to be said, but once or twice during their time together one would burst out with a topic that kept them talking for hours if need be. Today, Johanna's melancholy nature began their afternoon's chat.

"You never talk about _your_ parents," she said lightly, staring off into space as she said it.

"You never asked."

"Well, I'm asking. Where are they?"

"I don't know where me mum is, but me dad was the one who got me into sailing. I was eight and he started me off as a cleaner on board the ship he sailed on."

"Where is he now?"

"I dunno," he replied lightly with a shrug. "Probably still on the same ship."

"You mean you don't know?"

"Well, we kinda lost interest in the same things. We were in a port at Germany and I got talking to another sailor, he persuaded me to come aboard. Bit hard to keep contact with someone who's always moving though."

"That's so sad."

"Eh, he knew it was going to happen. I'd already turned sixteen in any case, even on land I'd have moved away."

"But to not talk to him again?"

"There are people who have been in far worse situations than mine."

"That's true, but it doesn't mean I can't pity you for it. Oh, I do wish _I'd_ known him now."

"You don't know anything about him," Anthony pointed out, laughing. "You're far too emotional in these matters, Johanna. I wasn't nearly as devoted to my father as you are to yours, and mine was far less protective. I have little to no reason to feel as strongly as you do."

"I suppose, though it is still sad. To not know your mother!"

"Oh, I had mother figures. That was all I needed."

Johanna batted his arm at the coarse implication and shook her head, fondly smiling. The afternoon was bright and so she took far more pleasure at that moment in closing her eyes and resting her head against his shoulder, allowing him to shade her from the light.

"Nellie didn't know hers either," she mused aloud to herself. "Neither does Toby it seems. I haven't asked father. Suppose I'm lucky."

"_I _could have told you that."

* * *

Despite the continuing hatred which had increased somewhat over the past few weeks, Lucy was aghast to note that her visitations in the night would not subside. The distain that she displayed seemed only to spur him on further. He always had taken harshly to the idea of being denied.

She could not longer wait before tears formed in her eyes. The fury of the Judge's passions stripped away the thick skin she wore and revealed the frightened child he first found sixteen years ago. He never questioned this newfound fear coupled with the refreshed anger, instead draining it of all its power and keeping it for his own satisfaction.

It exhausted Lucy to a point where she could feel the tears spilling even in the day at the mere memory of his touch. She rarely left her room at times, even when faced with the opportunity to speak to Johanna again. To let those tears be seen would be the ultimate shame.


	20. Chapter 20

It did not escape Sweeney Todd's notice that the mistress of the household was apparently absent when he next visited on business. He did not question it, instead his curiosity not surpassing the Judge's musings on the subject.

"I have noted you are quite used to seeing my wife wander the corridors upon your visits, Mr Todd," the Judge said with a passive air of conversation. "As of late she has found some comfort in retiring to her room, I haven't an idea why."

"I hadn't quite realised her absence," Sweeney replied, his jaw clenched.

"You're fortunate to be a bachelor at your age, Mr Todd," he mused aloud, almost too relaxed for the topic. "I'm sure you understand how little the fairer sex can be understood."

"I must confess I hadn't noticed."

The Judge paused a moment as if in thought before continuing.

"You said you had a daughter, did you not?"

"I did."

"And how old is she?" Sweeney froze for a moment, his razor moving across the Judge's cheek as if of its own accord while he remained dumbstruck with a rising suspicion that lead to anger.

"Seventeen," he replied slowly through grit teeth.

"Ah, if only they could remain so young forever. It is one of the misfortunes of life."

He shivered at the very thought of the implication in the Judge's words and remained silent. To speak now would be to enrage his own anger to a point of harm. _But why not?_ It had been months now, and not once had he even nicked the man's throat. Why would Lucy not ask him to do it at last?

Certainly not this day. When they were done, the Judge took a formal gestus and directed Sweeney towards the front door. They remained quiet down the hallway until they reached an open doorway wherein sat the two girls of their conversation. Johanna looked up quickly and smiled graciously. Roseanne's own smile was smaller, directed towards the guest as opposed to her father.

"Why did you not fire your Cecilia earlier, my lord? Roseanna's positively a _child_ when it comes to her stitches."

"You taunt me too much," Roseanna said in alarm, though without a sign of bitterness or anger of any kind.

At this the Judge only rolled his eyes and walked on, allowing Johanna a quick conspiratorial wink to her father before he too moved on.

"Your daughter seems quite well as of late."

"Well, that servant girl has done her some good," the Judge said, an air of pride in his tone. "Her previous maid was far too... out of touch with her generation. She's an awfully pretty young thing, is she not?" he added as an afterthought.

"I hadn't taken notice," Sweeney replied sternly. "Though I shouldn't think I would have- she seems no older than my own daughter."

"Ah, a man of high morals? Highly respectable, sir, highly respectable."

They reached the door and with little other civilities, they bid good day and the door was closed between them. It was not without substantial rage that he left that house, his hands gripped tightly into fists as he walked down the garden path, uttering a short, low growl that only he could hear. He saw red for a moment, the temptation to kick or beat the gate into some sort of submission becoming all too great.

It was then that he saw a small movement out of the corner of his eye that caused him to stop and look

upwards. There, at the second floor window, stood Lucy, partially hidden behind the curtains that she seemed to have purposefully hidden herself behind. She seemed quite close to tears, worn and tired to a point where he barely would have recognised her. Lucy laid her finger tips gently on the glass.

Reaching out towards him.

He did not know how to respond at first. The sight was enough to send him back to the house, and damned the consequences. _No. That isn't the way_. Instead he raised a hand and bowed, giving a lazy salute as he did so.

As he walked away, he briefly wondered how long it had been since she had smiled that way.

* * *

Nellie tapped her foot impatiently when she saw her tenant walk upstairs, ignoring the very presence of the customers around him and the glares he gained from the shop owner. When he had disappeared she furiously began scrubbing at the table she had begun to clean, much to Toby's alarm as he noticed the vigour with which he did so.

"What's up?" he asked warily, gripping a plate of pies in both hands- Nellie had almost forgotten how _small_ he was.

"That bloody man upstairs," she replied with vehement irritation. "At least a little consideration would be nice, but no! 'e just waltzes upstairs like we don't need a bit of 'elp."

"If yeh need me to do anything else, ma'am, I will, if want me to!"

"Oh, I know yeh will, Toby, yeh have more manners in that little finger than 'e does in 'is entire body." She threw the rag she had been cleaning with on the table. Toby smiled half heartedly and scurried to the doorway, pausing there a moment and regaining his balance with the plate.

"I'd wager yeh could give 'im a right good throttling, yeh know? Could just go speak to 'im?"

With that he left to the courtyard, hurrying a bit as he heard an impatient voice calling him over. Nellie watched him and after a moment, shook her head, laughing to herself. She looked up towards the ceiling and barely heard a sound from up there, as if she had not just seen a man enter that room.

Steadily over the months, customers had become more and more frequent at the pie shop. Not enough yet to warrant excitement or jubilant spending, but enough to put the household in a position of comfort that had not been seen for a decade at the very least. Nellie supposed for a moment that she should leave Mr Todd alone for the afternoon; it was his money, after all, that had helped them all.

Of course, with the new wave of business, that afternoon did not take very long.

It was mere moments after the dinner rush had disappeared that Nellie's impatience got the best of her and she found herself storming up the staircase leading to Mr Todd's flat about the shop. He stood by the dresser when she entered the shop, silently cleaning his razors. Despite the fuss that Nellie made in entering, he did not shift his gaze.

"And what do yeh think yeh're doing up 'ere?" Nellie demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"Cleaning," he replied simply, raising his eyebrows a the simple nature of the question.

"Well, I can see that! Yeh've been up 'ere all afternoon without so much as a 'how-de-doo'."

"Your point being?"

"Well, a bit of consideration would be nice," Nellie muttered contemptuously, folding her arms. With a sarcastic smirk, Sweeney turned towards Nellie and shook his head.

"You take my nonchalance too personally, pet," he said, still continuing his cleaning. "You should give me credit, I treat you far too politely."

"Yeh have the strangest interpretations of _polite_, yeh know?"

With arched eyebrows and a light hearted expression- well, as light hearted as she had ever seen him, Nellie noted- Sweeney put down his razor and placed a hand on his waist, looking at Nellie as if she were a child who was begging for attention.

"Do you need me?" he asked. Nellie blushed at the question and let her arms fall to her sides.

"Well, yeh can… we're still cleaning up, yeh might as well 'elp," she finally said, though it was quite obvious that she had made up these details. The man before her did not note this aloud, though, and pushed past her towards the staircase. Nellie paused, staring off into space as she listened to his footsteps heavily stomping down the staircase. A shiver ran down her spine and caused her to jump back to life and run down those steps and back into the shop.

They tidied lazily for a few solid minutes, lethargic in their actions as they realised how little was left to do, before the peace was disturbed by the clanging of the door.

Johanna and Anthony bounded into the shop in peals of laughter and joy that quite shocked both Nellie and Sweeney into a moment of silence, posed as if in the midst of a mime act. The two youths stopped abruptly and stifled their laughter, staring at the scene before them. All were silent for a short while before Johanna stood on her toes and tapped Anthony's shoulder.

"Oh, can I tell them?"

"I don't think they could stand it right now."

"You're right, but we really should tell them."

"Do you definitely want to?"

"What on Earth are yeh talking about?" Nellie asked, head tilted quizzically.

"Oh, now they _want_ to know, Anthony, we have to tell them!"

"So we shall."

"No, wait- no, I should tell them. Can I?"

"Well bloody will spit it out!" Nellie squealed, their glee catching on in her tone. Johanna and Anthony formalised themselves, standing side by side, Anthony's arm draped around Johanna's shoulder. They looked briefly at each other before Johanna could no longer silence herself and her smile spread.

"We're engaged," she said, clapping her hands together delightedly.

The scene that followed was one that Sweeney Todd watched from afar. As Nellie burst forward with a scream of joy, he took a step back, leaning against the wall of one of the booths. Johanna was first to be wrapped in a violently emotional embrace, Nellie having quite lost her more securely serious disposition. She kissed Anthony's cheek and held him as if she were her own son, with all the happiness of a true mother.

Johanna turned and noticed her father's distance. She held out a hand and smiled brightly.

"Father, come! Celebrate with us, won't you?"

He remained quiet, only looking at them with a wariness that Johanna could not place the reasoning upon. She laughed nervously, her smile becoming somewhat more false.

"What's the matter?" she asked, nervous. Anthony and Nellie slowed down their own laughter as they realised the sombre manner in which the two stared at each other. "Aren't you happy, father?"

"Of course," he replied, choking on the words. "Yes… yes, of course."

"Then come _celebrate_, father! You needn't look so sad!"

Mr Todd looked down for a moment, closing his eyes in thought and breathing a heavy sigh. When he looked up he noticed that all eyes were on him now, curious and quiet. He reached out a hand and brushed away Johanna's hair from her eyes, a tenderness in the movement that relaxed his daughter slightly.

"We dreamt of this day for you ever since you were born," he said quietly. Johanna placed her own small hand upon her father's which now rested on her cheek. A small, honest smile spread on her lips. "It… isn't _right_ for her not to be here."

The room was silent once more. Johanna let her hand slide away from her father's and she took a step back, her eyes wide and watering. Anthony placed his hand on her shoulder, but was quickly shrugged away as Johanna wiped a hand across her eyes.

"Can we not have a _single moment_ to forget?" she asked shakily, never letting her eyes leave her father's. "Dear God, it cannot be helped! You would taint this moment with an impossibility?"

"I'm sure he meant no harm," Nellie whispered, standing beside Johanna now. It did not calm her, though, and with a shaky sigh she turned sharply and took hold of Anthony's wrist.

"Come, _please_, let us leave for now?"

Anthony murmured something apologetic towards the two left behind them in the pie shop as they left, Johanna's firmly put out mood creating a severely awkward silence behind her. Nellie watched the two leave until they disappeared into the city and turned towards Sweeney, her own eyes tearing up.

"Yeh couldn't just keep yeh mouth shut for a minute, could yeh?"

"Weren't you just complaining that I don't speak enough?"

"Oh, you absolutely _impossible_ man! If yeh're not careful, one of these days I'll- I'll-"

"I did not mean to cause Johanna any distress," he interrupted firmly, gripping the side of the booth. "But even _you_ will not deny the state of affairs."

"But I wouldn't mention them! Yeh may 'ave lost a wife, Mr T, but Johanna lost a mother, and I will not 'ave yeh reminding 'er of it!"

"I've begun to question your thoughts on your position, Mrs Lovett," Sweeney said through gritted teeth. "Must I remind you that you are in no position to give me orders on Johanna's upbringing? I am her father and you are _not_ her mother."

"Well I may very bloody well be," Nellie hissed, her cheeks flushing.

"How dare you-"

"Your Lucy would have been bloody good mother to Johanna, I know that as well as yeh do. But she's not 'ere, she's mothering someone else's child. And _I _am the one who's been looking after yehr daughter all these years. I would never blame any of this on Lucy, she did all she could to 'elp that kid of yehrs, but I 'ave every right to call myself 'er mother! I've given everything to that little girl and I will not let yeh stand by and take that away from me!"

Nellie was gasping by the end of her speech, her watery eyes staring directly into Mr Todd's, daring him to contradict her. He did not do so and instead lowered his head slowly. They remained quiet for some time, though neither kept track. Before long, Sweeney slumped past Nellie and exited the shop, making his way to his flat where he stayed for the good part of a couple of days.


	21. Chapter 21

Anthony sat at the edge of his bed quietly, looking down towards the floor with a fatigue that had drawn its way through the evening. Johanna had insisted on finding somewhere to find a nightgown, having had no time to pack before running away. He had offered to return in her place but was halted, and instead Johanna conceded that perhaps it would be best for him to do so tomorrow when she was working.

He looked up sharply when a small thud of footsteps could be heard at the doorway. Johanna looked at Anthony with a dazed expression, her head tilted to the side and her eyes distant, as if she were not looking at him at all. Anthony could not help but feel embarrassed as he realised for the first time that Johanna was in his home, in her _nightgown_ of all things, quite defenceless. He cleared his throat, but this did not bring her back to the world. Sensing she needed the warm comfort of another at that moment, Anthony moved towards her and held her hands, prising them gently away from the fabric of her gown that she had been fidgeting with for quite some time. Quite suddenly, she turned her head to look at him and her eyes watered.

"Am I being wicked?" she asked quietly, her lip quivering. "It wasn't fair of me to run away, was it?"

"Perhaps some time to calm down was all everyone needed," Anthony replied, his thumb stroking Johanna's small fists reassuringly.

"I ruined everything."

"No! No, don't think that, you haven't ruined a thing!"

"I ruined it for Nellie," Johanna said firmly, sniffing as she did so. "She was so excited, she's dreamt of this day more than I have. And father! Lord, I should not have said a word."

"You did what you thought was best."

"And if we all did whatever the hell we felt like, the world would be a far worse place. I am no exception to that rule!"

She flung her hands away from Anthony and charged towards the bed, sitting at the edge with her fingers deeply gripped into the sheets and her head bowed. Anthony stood for a moment watching her before he noticed that her shoulders had begun to shake. Slowly, as if approaching an animal, he edged towards her before kneeling by her feet, his eyes meeting her own when finally she looked up to meet his gaze.

"Just leave it for tonight," he asked quietly, taking Johanna's hands and pressing his lips to both of them. "You'll get yourself in a blind panic by tomorrow if you don't just ignore it for a bit."

"We're not doing anything bad, do you think?" Johanna bit her lip before continuing. "Getting engaged, that is. You don't think this is a sign we're doing something wrong?"

"I'm not superstitious enough to think so," Anthony replied with a shrug.

"But what if it is?"

"Then we tough it out."

Johanna nodded, newly determined and rubbing at her eyes like a child. Anthony knelt there for another few minutes while his fiancée controlled herself and finally emerged with the same usual bright eyes and bright smile.

"I'm tired," she began, though Anthony noted that her perky tone suggested otherwise. "I really am grateful you've let me stay."

Anthony smiled weakly and nodded, understanding this to be a polite yet firm attempt to dismiss him from the room. He kissed her hands once more and stood, lowering his gaze to his feet. He knew that she had not quite recovered at this time and to try and keep her gaze would be futile. A quick look behind him and then Anthony closed the door, pausing only briefly to breath a sigh of relief. There was silence which allowed him a moment of true belief that he had calmed her nerves for the night, though his mind refused to let him sleep on this happy thought.

* * *

"_Oh, I promise, you'll love 'im!" Nellie laughed, clasping Lucy's hand. The poor girl was always so nervous visiting the brothel with no knowledge of what she would face without Nellie's guiding presence. "'e isn't like the others, never a customer. Yeh've gone pale as death!"_

"_I don't mean to be, Nellie, but most of your friends don't quite like me."_

"_Ah, our Ben's different, 'e takes a liking to everyone. Not a bitter bone in 'is body."_

_Nellie was quite determined to make sure that her newest friend would at least be civil to her oldest friend. The two had been such a light in her life that it would be impossible to survive without them at least acting friendly. There was no doubt that they would enjoy each other's company at least; everyone loved Ben if only for that dashing smile and the mild compliments that he dished out freely, and Lucy was quite a charmer when she wanted to be._

_Sure enough, two o'clock sharp, just as he did every Friday, Ben waltzed into the brothel with a few unexpected packages tucked into the crook of his elbow. A few girls who had been lolling about the doorway smiled and laughed infectiously as Ben bowed low to them. He handed the group one of the packages, saying something that Nellie could not quite hear. It did not take him long to reach their little corner, though. Both she and Lucy had retired to the small walled off corner of the brothel where they often remained for small conversations._

"_Ah, my exquisite little red-head," Ben said with a grin, bowing lower than ever before and offering a hand out towards Nellie. She giggled like a young girl, taking the hand and standing to curtsey in return, kissing him once on each cheek when they stood again. "For you, madame."_

_He offered her the last of the packages that he had brought with him, which Nellie quickly opened to reveal a loaf of bread. Lucy supposed that it was hard to come by in this building, though the delight in Nellie's eyes told of a deeper admiration for the moment._

"_Oh, Ben, yeh didn't 'ave to."_

"_If I had to, I wouldn't have done it." Benjamin noticed a small movement out of the corner of his eye and seemed to nearly jump out of his skin when he saw Lucy sitting there quietly in the corner, brushing hair out of her eyes in attempts to make herself seem civil. "Have a guest, do we?"_

"_Ah, Ben! This is Lucy, Lucy Oakley, a friend of mine."_

"_Oakley?" Benjamin repeated, offering a hand that he knew a woman of Lucy's class was expecting to shake upon the new greeting. "The spectacles maker's daughter, I suppose?"_

"_You know us?"_

"_I make it my business to know everyone," he replied, smiling awkwardly. "Oh! Benjamin- yes, Nellie said. Barker's the name, Benjamin Barker."_

"_Then I'm afraid I can't extend the same courtesy of knowledge that you possess, Mr Barker, I'm afraid I haven't a clue who you are."_

_Despite this, Benjamin still smiled, and upon seeing this Nellie beamed brightly. Though Lucy was not as warm and open as she would come to be within the proceeding hours, Benjamin did not react badly to the girl at all and Nellie felt all at once quite safe in the knowledge they would get along swimmingly._

* * *

_It was in that same room four months later that Nellie sat there, her eyes dark and empty as Lucy sat beside her, realising that her happiness was not shared in. Slowly her delighted speech waned into pleads for acknowledgement, fear for Nellie's health._

"_Please, talk to me, are you alright? Should I go and get one of the other girls? Please, Nellie, you look so cold!"_

_After a few more minutes Nellie finally swallowed thickly and uttered a shuddering sigh, her whole body shaking._

"_A marriage?" she asked with a croaked voice. Lucy was stunned into silence for a moment but then smiled slightly._

"_Yes, Nellie, a marriage. I daresay I stunned you a bit? I'm so sorry- I know we weren't very public about it, not that I think about it. I just didn't think it would shock you as much."_

_Nellie nodded slowly, and began shaking a little. Again, Lucy's fears were brought forward and she took off her shawl, wrapping it around Nellie's shoulders. The woman was deaf to the world, though, and barely noticed Lucy's repeated pleads for her health. It took a while for her to be able to hear again._

"_I think you've calmed a bit, haven't you? Is it a cold? The flu? Tell me what it is, Nellie, and perhaps I can help. Perhaps Ben could help? He'll be here soon, only a few more minutes."_

_With slow deliberate movements, Nellie pushed the shawl from her shoulders and stood, her fingers stretching and curling repetitively to gain the feeling back. She turned herself to face Lucy, though her eyes stared at the floor._

"_Yeh really didn't know, did yeh?" she asked quietly, her tone low. Lucy blinked twice, confused._

"_Know what, Nellie?"_

"_Yeh didn't know that this wasn't meant to 'appen. 'e wasn't meant to fall in love with yeh, Lucy."_

"_Is it the flu, Nellie? Because you need to sit down if it is, you need to rest, you-"_

"'_e was meant to fall in love with me."_

_They were quiet again, the silence only broken by the sounds of the brothel outside their small shelter. Lucy stood slowly, her hands clasped together._

"_What?"_

"'_e was meant to be mine. I found 'im first, I loved 'im first."_

"_Nellie, what are you talking about?"_

"_I've been so blind," Nellie said with a choked sob, realising at that moment that she had begun to cry. "I didn't even know that… that yeh'd… God, Lucy, 'ow could yeh do this to me?"_

_Lucy looked warily at her friend, twisting her fingers together as she attempted to think of something to say. Nellie attempted to control herself, her own hands at her temples and twisting into her hair. Noting this, Lucy moved forward and placed her hands on Nellie's, gently prising them away from her head. Nellie's eyes met Lucy's and the two froze, though the eye contact made Lucy braver and she smiled half heartedly._

"_I do love him dearly," she said slowly, grasping Nellie's hands tightly. "And he loves me too. I swear, I never meant for it to happen- if I'd have known I would never, ever have…"_

_Nellie shook her hands away from Lucy's grasp, taking a few steps backwards as she controlled her breath._

"_That ain't true," Nellie murmured, closing her eyes tightly. "If yeh'd 'ave known, I'd 'ave 'ad to give 'im up, wouldn't I? 'Cause that's what friends do, ain't it?"_

_Lucy only stood still, unable to find a way to reply._

"_Yeh're not even gonna talk to me? Did I ruin it for yeh? Good! Good, I want to, 'cause it's not fair yeh know? Yeh're gonna go get married an I- I'm gonna be stuck 'ere, while you two are swanning off in yeh own 'appy little world while I- I'm-"_

_She stopped here and clenched a fist to her mouth, holding back a sob. Lucy looked at her and finally, after what seemed a lifetime of silence, raised a hand to her as if offering peace. Nellie looked up with wide, disbelieving eyes._

"_I just want to do right by you, Nellie," Lucy said, a shiver in her voice. "That's all I've ever wanted to do, I swear it."_

_The hand remained outstretched towards Nellie, waiting for a friendly gesture. She stared at it for a moment, considering. Really, there should have been no reason not to hold the hand and make amends, to apologise and forget._

_No. That wouldn't do._

_With a heavy sob and a rough hand pushing Lucy out of the way, Nellie ran from the room, one hand pressed to her mouth and the other holding her skirts out of the way. She could have sworn that she heard Benjamin calling her to stop as she ran outside, having passed him as she ran, but she could not stop. No, Nellie refused to stop for as long as she had breath in her lungs._

Nellie sat up in her bed, shaking. Memories had flooded her dreams for as long as she could remember and whenever such memories became apparent, she could never stop herself from waking up with tears in her eyes. She looked around the room, half expecting the usual cooing over her well being that followed her nightmares. But it did not come.

Slowly she remembered Johanna's flight from the house and another wave of sadness crashed through Nellie's heart. She could not stop herself from whimpering slightly, sinking back into her pillows and gripping her hair tightly in a fist, trying to relieve some tension that locked itself in her joints.

The house was almost too quiet for her liking without the familiar creaking of floorboards from across the hallway, and Nellie found herself remaining conscious for far too many hours for her liking, and for far too long to allow her to forget her dreams.


	22. Chapter 22

Anthony stopped short of the fence lining the pie shop's courtyard and sighed heavily before taking a deep, brave breath. Johanna had already gone to the Turpin household and had begged for him to find out her things, at least for the duration of a two to three day stay. He had put on a brave face, knowing that he very well couldn't tell Johanna that the only man he feared was his future father in law. There had been enough tantrums on the ship sailing home for Anthony to know that it was in his best interest to remain in Mr Todd's good books.

This would perhaps, he thought to himself, have been a good thought to keep in mind before asking his daughter to marry him.

He entered the pie shop to find it fairly deserted, only a few strangers sitting in one of the booths having a quiet conversation. Toby popped up from behind the counter when he heard the sound of the bell ringing. Upon seeing Anthony, the young boy grinned widely, running up to the sailor lad.

"Anthony!" he said, wrapping his arms around the youth's waist, causing him to stumble back a bit and laugh with relief.

"Hullo there," Anthony laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "Missed me then?"

"Mrs Lovett told me what happened!" Toby said with a panicked awe in his eyes. "She said you two ran away!"

"Only for a short while," Anthony assured the boy, the few short words bringing comfort enough to him to relax the lad's shoulders. "It's only been a misunderstanding."

"There's been no misunderstanding." The two boys turned their heads towards Nellie who stood at the doorway, her arms folded and a weak smile on her lips. "Mr T was being a complete arse, no misunderstanding there lad."

"When are you and Johanna coming back?" Toby asked excitedly. Anthony looked nervously towards Nellie but she smiled reassuringly, showing no judgement on her part.

"I should think we'll only be a few days," he replied slowly. "Mrs Lovett, ma'am, would you happen to be able to pack a few dresses and the like? She did not tell me what to get, only that she only needed enough for a few days."

"Of course, love, come in 'ere and wait for a bit."

Anthony nodded and shuffled awkwardly behind her, looking about the parlour as if with new eyes. It somehow seemed darker, unused. Nellie disappeared into Johanna's room at the farthest point of the hallway and remained in that room for some time, the distant sound of drawers being opened and clothes being rustled echoing through the room. Swallowing thickly, Anthony leaned slightly as if to look into the hallway that led to Johanna's room, having a sense of bashfulness that stopped him from taking a step towards it.

"Is… is Mr Todd in, may I ask?"

"Yes, but yeh don't wanna go talk to 'im," Nellie called back, quite composed in comparison to her companion. "'e was in a foul mood last night and I don't think 'e'll 'ave cheered up."

"Where is he now?"

"Up in the flat. 'e'll be there for days I reckon, if there's only one peculiar thing about that man, it's the fact 'e can go forever without contact of any kind."

"You needn't remind me, ma'am," Anthony said with a chuckle. "I was on that ship with him for weeks before he said a word."

"Now that's a story I'd like to 'ear one day," Nellie said, smiling slightly as she emerged from the bedroom with a large carpet bag hanging from the crook of her elbow. "But 'e's left me in such a bad mood I don't think I'd pity 'im."

"Perhaps it is a tale for another time, then."

Nellie paused for a moment before finally outstretching an arm, offering Anthony the bag that he took without much hesitation. She smiled awkwardly and looked down to the ground, igniting a sense of pity in Anthony that forced him to remain silent for a short period of time. He knew that she was pondering on something to say, and did not want to disturb her track of thought.

"She's alright, ain't she?" Nellie asked at last.

"Mostly, I think."

"Nothing unto ward's going on, is it? I just wanna make sure she's gonna be alright."

"No, no, everything has been extremely well taken care of," Anthony said, smiling reassuringly.

"Yeh'd better make sure it is," Nellie said, wagging a finger at him and feigning a serious nature. "I'll want 'er back in one piece."

"I wouldn't dream of it any other way."

There was nothing else to be said, Anthony sensed, and so he took a bow and turned quickly, disappearing from the parlour and leaving Nellie by herself. She smiled to herself, looking about the room. It really did look so dark without Johanna there.

* * *

Though it seemed almost a silly thing to do, Roseanne could not help but feel somewhat overjoyed for her servant- her _friend_- when the news of engagement appeared in their conversation. She clapped her hands together and laughed aloud before holding Johanna's hands in her own.

"Oh, that's absolutely marvellous, Johanna! When is the wedding? I must be allowed to come, mustn't I? I would not miss it for the world!"

"Of course you will be invited, of course. Really, you're almost as excited as I was," Johanna said, shaking her head at the idea. "I shall have to give you some warning, of course, I doubt your father would freely let you attend a servant's wedding without trying to intervene."

"Oh! Yes, I hadn't thought- oh, Johanna, if you are to be married then I shall be able to ask of you to be my escort, won't I? Father won't be able to protest! Well, didn't this just work out finely for us all?"

"You poor child, you would ask to be rid of your beau?" Johanna teased.

"Pooh! Don't be silly, Johanna, it doesn't become you, I shall be glad to be rid of forced company. Yes, he is fine enough a gentleman, I suppose, but should I like to be forced into his company? No!"

"If you are so passionate on the idea then you can just refuse him, I'm sure," Johanna said, though she knew even as she said it that this had never been an option for the poor girl.

"Well, soon enough I will. Father worries, and I am young, perhaps he will understand when I have grown more."

"Perhaps," Johanna nodded. "But… until then, I suppose I shall have to put in an effort to become your escort, won't I?"

Roseanne smiled and laughed again, pulling Johanna in towards her and embracing her tightly.

"Married! You're getting married! Oh, I can't believe it!"

A creaking at the doorway made the two girls pause and turn their heads. Lucy watched them, wide eyed, her hand placed tentatively on the wooden frame of the doorway. Roseanne was first to move, releasing Johanna and taking a step forward, smiling brightly.

"You heard then? Isn't it lovely, mother? A happy couple in the world!"

"It's wonderful," Lucy choked, putting her fingers to her lips as she sensed a smile. She looked towards Johanna, nodding towards her. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Will it be soon?"

"We haven't decided a date, ma'am, I only found myself engaged last night," Johanna said, far too nervous to put any certain emotion into her voice. Roseanne rolled her eyes at this lack of enthusiasm.

"Really, Johanna, you act too meekly! This is an _engagement_!"

"Yes, of course," she said, laughing at her own shyness. "I forget myself, it really is quite brilliant, isn't it?"

"Then I can only wish you all of the luck in the world," Lucy said quietly, her gaze drifting elsewhere before she wandered back down the hallway, out of sight once more. Roseanne shook her head and turned again towards Johanna.

"She does seem so distant nowadays, I barely know why."

Johanna shrugged, lost for words. She did not want to dwell on any unhappiness that might befall their mother, and without a way of confession this without revealing any secrets Johanna thought it best to remain quiet. Roseanne chattered on happily, barely leaving time for a response on Johanna's part which allowed her a few moments of thought and isolation within her own head that came as a great relief.

"I wouldn't know if you'd suit red or white better, though," Johanna heard Roseanne say musingly, a gap opening.

"White," she replied vacantly, unsure what she was agreeing to.

"Yes, yes, you're right, white roses, they're far classier don't you think?"

"I'm under the impression you're planning out this whole thing," Johanna laughed, much to Roseanne's surprise.

"Of course I am! I ask for nothing less than complete control over this wedding!"

"You need a hobby."

"This is my hobby!"

"Well, keep your expectations lower than they are, if you may. Must I remind you we don't earn as much as that extravagant mind of yours thinks?"

"Oh, pish posh! As if you have to worry about that, father will summon any flowers I take a fancy to and they will be yours."

"You really mustn't," Johanna said lowly.

"Indeed, I must! Johanna, dear, you are quite possibly the only person I have felt so elated for, and for that I must do something in return, mustn't I? Allow me to spoil you."

"I'll hear of no such thing!" Johanna exclaimed, although she could not help but smile. She paused and sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "You may find us flowers then, if you so desire. But I won't accept a single thing more."

"Then they shall be the most wonderful flowers you've ever seen in your entire life, I swear on it!"

Roseanne looked positively like a child at Christmas as she looked at Johanna in that moment, her smile beaming and her eyes bright. It was a sight that softened Johanna's first concerns and she could not help but smile in return. There was something in the affection with which Roseanne spoke that for a moment halted her. A warm feeling of _belonging_ surrounded her, and for a short while she was utterly content.


End file.
